


A War Within

by Jettara1



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Anal, Emotional Abuse, Forced Orgasms, M/M, Mental Abuse, Physical Abuse, Rape, Torture, Violence, psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jettara1/pseuds/Jettara1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The darkest httyd fic I’ve written to date and dedicated to a prompt sent to e-willis on tumblr on a two part episode (which will come to six chapters, 3 per episode) what if rtte was not rated for kids but rather grownups and how Stoick and the riders would react if Dagur captured Hiccup and turned him into a sex slave.  I’m basing a lot of this around e-willis’s response and traditions in Viking times.  In case the disclaimer didn’t cover it this is rated MA, not for the faint of heart, torture, abuse, noncon and character death(s).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A War Within 1   
Episode 1 Act 1

Note: This will probably be the darkest httyd fic I’ve written to date and dedicated to a prompt sent to e-willis on tumblr on a two part episode (which will come to six chapters, 3 per episode) what if rtte was not rated for kids but rather grownups and how Stoick and the riders would react if Dagur captured Hiccup and turned him into a sex slave. I’m basing a lot of this around e-willis’s response and traditions in Viking times. In case the disclaimer didn’t cover it this is rated MA, not for the faint of heart, torture, abuse, noncon and character death(s). No flames, you’ve been warned.

There’s times when the ones you trust with your very life are not the ones you need to count on when it most counts. Sometimes those loved ones can be the very one to break you and to save them and be able to stay strong they must be sent away for everyone’s good. Of course when that time comes it’s often harder to do what must be done than ever planned or practised.

It was supposed to be a routine trip to Berk for supplies. Maybe a quick visit with family and friends and maybe make sure Gustav and the other new riders – yep, Stoick the Vast had gone behind Hiccup’s back and allowed a new group of riders to start dragon training – hadn’t burned down the academy or village yet, although given how head strong Gustav was that was a very real possibility. The thirty-hour flight had become a norm once or twice a month as the original riders tried to adjust to being on their own at Dragon’s Edge but what started out as a nice clear day with bright sunny skies took a turn the further north they travelled and a thick mist rolled in. Maybe that was why they missed the armada of ships down below.

They flew slowly together in a loose formation joking and talking rather loudly, each happy to be going home to see their parents. Hiccup was particularly happy. His Dad had a new dragon partner and while Stoick the Vast was an accomplished rider, Bonecrusher was not the typical dragon and was just as bullheaded as his rider. Hiccup was anxious to see how well they had learned to live together. At least his father was no longer alone in the great big hut. Bonecrusher might not live inside but an extension had been built so that he was right next to it and in easy reach of Stoick. That was what he and Astrid were currently joking about when a boulder came sailing between them and nicking Toothless’s wing.

Hiccup gave a yelp and gasped his saddle tightly as his ebony dragon went into a temporary tail spin. The clamps connecting him to the saddle clanged, ropes taunt and threatening to snap. Wings flapped anxiously as Toothless fought to regain control as their friends and dragons above screamed and dove after them.

“Easy, bud…easy,” Hiccup tried to sooth as he kept control over the prosthetic tailfin, keeping it shut until Toothless got control of his wings. Whether his words were heard was not known. The speed of their descent and wind whipping at them stole the words and it was sheer years of flying and falling that kept Hiccup from panicking and monitor his breathing as he coached Toothless and waited patiently until those large black wings billowed out and caught the wind and for a moment they were suspended in the air, both surprised by what happened.

That should have been it but a warning cry from the others came too late for Hiccup and Toothless to maneuver out of the way. They had fallen to within a hundred feet of the sea and smack in the middle of twenty heavily armed ships. The sounds of catapults and harpoons being fired filled the air. Toothless snarled and whirled toward one, just managing to dodge it and a second but there were so many coming from so many directions that not even with Hiccup’s shield could they fight them all off. Not even with the help of the other riders.

“Stay back!” Hiccup ordered when Astrid and Stormfly dared come too close. 

Dragon proof chains wrapped around Toothless’s middle and Hiccup scrambled to untangle it without dislodging his prosthetic foot from its stirrup. Although at this point as long as Toothless had his wings he keep them in the air but he couldn’t hold this position for long. A second chain just missed hitting Hiccup and wrapped around the Nightfury’s neck.

“Bring them down!” a voice ordered from below. “Bring them to me!”

They were jerked downwards as Berserkers began turning the wenches of the chains. Hiccup looked down frantically. It wouldn’t take long before they reached the ships. Nets were already being loaded for their final capture. The chains were heavy but Hiccup was stubborn and with his friends offering cover fire he was able to get the chain untangled from around Toothless’s neck before the dragon was strangled or went into such a panic that Hiccup was thrown off, straps or no straps.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept saying, a mantra of growing panic the closer they got to the ships and the manic laughter of Dagur the Deranged. Hiccup prided himself on not over panicking – although his friends may say otherwise – but now there was a tightness in his chest, adrenaline and fear making him abandon his position, knowing that if he didn’t free Toothless controlling his tailfin wouldn’t matter and yank as hard as he could at the chain tearing into his best friend’s upper tail. A trail of bright red over black scales was beginning to drip down the dragon’s lithe body and stain Hiccup’s hands as he struggled with the heavy metal. “It’s okay, bud, it’s okay. I’ve almost got it.”

A shriek exploded from Toothless as a harpoon went through his right wing and the chain connected wrapped around him, trapping the other wing to his body and effectively throwing Hiccup off him. 

“TOOTHLESS!” Hiccup screamed, reaching out to him even as he fell.

The Nightfury cried out as well, rolling midair to try and save him but there was no way to do that. Toothless was falling, too, his wings no longer of any use. He crashed into the water in between the gathered ships. 

Hiccup wasn’t so lucky. He hit the deck of one of the ships hard, tumbling across the deck and landing against a pile of crates that fell upon him and only attributed to what would become amounting series of injuries.

“Hiccup!” Astrid screamed from up above.

Her voice mixed with Toothless’s panicked cries as he splashed about in the water was what jarred Hiccup. His head hurt and vision was slightly blurry. It was a struggle to push the crates off him and those he couldn’t had landed in such away against the others that he was able, with a little wiggling, to crawl under. He had hit his head and his vision blurred and stomach rolled as he got to his feet. His shield was lost and his footing was not quite with him. Being injured and on a ship in the open sea was quite a different thing from being in the air. He had to walk and each time the ship lurched to one side of the other he felt as if he was going to fall or worse, be sick. Nonetheless he struggled toward the closest wench, intent on disabling it and somehow freeing Toothless. Already the other ships were letting go of their wenches as a net was aimed to gather the fallen dragon and other harpoons were fired at the rest of the dragons.

Luck was with him. All the Berserkers were so preoccupied with battling the others that they didn’t notice him right away. He managed to dismantle the so called dragon proof wench. The gears whirled as wench spun in reverse, the chain unwinding so quickly it was a blur. It fell into the sea and with any luck Toothless would be able to untangle himself from it.

A sharp agonizing pain rang through the back of Hiccup’s head and his vision bled to white as he staggered forward and against the ship’s wall, instinctively reaching out for support. He heard a deep hate filled laughed behind him but before he could even consider defending himself a fist connected with his head and everything momentarily faded to black.

“If that dragon can’t fly again I’ll have your heads,” Dagur bellowed as he paced the ship, watching his men’s progress as they pulled the trapped Nightfury toward his ship. He anxiously looked toward the deck of each ship unsure where Hiccup had landed but knowing his rival was close. He could fell it. Besides, Hiccup would never abandon his precious Toothless. That name had to be changed as soon as he retrained. Oh he had big plans for this dragon…and his rider. Now where was Hiccup? A frown tugged his lips down at the yelling and chaos presented by the dragon riders as they fought to reach the fallen dragon and find Hiccup. They were becoming annoying. “Take them down,” he ordered Savaged in boredom. “We might be able to use them as leverage. Or simply kill them, I don’t really care. Oh!”

It was a pleasant surprise when one of his warriors crossed a plank between his flag ship and one of the lesser warships with a certain familiar Hooligan heir being shoved in front of him. He had never seen Hiccup in such a predicament, disheveled, bruised and arm twisted painfully behind his back to keep him moving. The soldier shoved Hiccup to his knees in front of Dagur and surprising there was no real resistance. Hiccup fell to his knees, blinking rapidly as if unable to see clear. Nonetheless he was defiant as ever.

“Let him go, Dagur,” Hiccup wheezed, blinking owlishly as he tried to make eye contact with the Berserker chief.

“Oh?” Dagur asked in amusement and glanced over his shoulder at the flailing dragon dramatically. “Let him go? Are you sure? I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the one to let him dragon. Oh well! If that’s what you want. I suppose I could still use his skull for a helmet. I mean he is all tangled up in a net now so retrieving it won’t be a problem.” He looked back at Hiccup. “You’re not still squeamish, are you? Maybe you should come here and say goodbye.”

Hiccup gave a grunt as he was hauled back to his feet and shoved up against the side of the boat, directly in front of Dagur who happily blocked him in by pressing his front against Hiccup’s back and hands on either side of the thinner man. It was the closest they had been to each other in years and Hiccup could feel just how happy Dagur was to have him there after all this time.

The battle had pretty much ended with his capture. The riders had flown back to a safe distance yet still posed a threat should they be needed and the Berserkers kept their focus split between hauling the Nightfury onto one of the boats and the surrounding dragons.

Dagur tut-tutted as he took in all in victoriously. “Did you count how long this took? I didn’t. A few minutes maybe and look…here you are right where I always wanted you and your precious Nightfury is about to sink to the seabed,” he purred in Hiccup’s ear, one hand moving suggestively to Hiccup’s hip. “Tell your friends to surrender now or I’ll kill each and every one of them, starting with that pretty blonde you’re so fond of. And I won’t be gently…no…I’m thinking maybe I’ll gut her slowly or…how about this…I make her my little play thing for a while? You two are an item, right?”

Hiccup said nothing, his eye sight finally clearing and getting a good view of the predicament they were all in. Toothless was going to drown. The others had to leave now if they had any how of escape. When he didn’t answer Dagur brought a long knife to his throat and forced his head back.

“Tell them to surrender,” the Berserker repeated, his voice taking on an annoyed edge. “Do it or I’ll send you back to your daddy in little bitty pieces.”

“No,” Hiccup choked out. “You can kill me first.”

Of course just because he said it didn’t mean his friends would try saving him. Astrid let out a war cry and rushed toward them on her Deadly Nadder but one hard yank on Hiccup hair made the Hooligan heir cry out and the riders back down in real fear that Dagur might actually kill him this time. Even Astrid urged Stormfly back.

“Now, let’s try this again, won’t we, brother. Tell your riders to land on my ships and surrender to my men before I’m forced to do something you’re really not going to like.” Dagur yanked harder on Hiccup’s hair. “Unless you want to watch them die.”

The blade bit into Hiccup’s throat drawing a thin line of blood. He let out a slow breath and glanced up at his friends. He gave Astrid only a passing glance knowing she would disobey any order he gave her right at this moment and made eye contact with his cousin instead who the Berserkers already assumed was his second in command. The net holding Toothless was released and the dragon began to sink. Hiccup’s heart leapt into his throat but he kept his voice as calm as possible. “Snotlout,” he called and he didn’t need to say more. 

His cousin and Monstrous Nightmare shot out of the sky in flames, shocking Berserkers and sending many diving to the deck fearing a blaze of fire. Hookfang shot a few blasts in distraction before diving in the water after Toothless. They came up outside the circle of ships, the net clenched between Hookfang’s claws, and flew off in the direction of Berk. It took a moment but soon the other riders followed suit. They wouldn’t be able to make it to Berk right away, not with Toothless’s injuries. They would have to land on the nearest island to tend to his wounds but at least he would be safe and perhaps Hiccup could figure some sort of escape.


	2. Chapter 2

A War Within 2  
Episode 1 Act 2

Hiccup’s head was pulled back to the point that the back rested on Dagur’s shoulder. “You never know when to stop, do you?” Dagur purred, gazing down at him upside down. “And here I was trying to be nice. Now I’m going to have to punish you and them.” He shoved to Savage. “How many lashing did Alvin give me that first night in prison? Ten or twenty?”

“Ten, sir,” the former Outcast answered as he took Hiccup and eyed the youth. He had grown considerably since the last time he saw him.

Dagur stuck out his bottom lip and scratched his patchy beard thoughtfully. “It seemed a lot more to me. What do you think, brother? Ten or twenty.”

Hiccup tried to yank free of Savage but another Berserker grabbed his other arm and held him back. “It doesn’t matter what you do to me. You’ll never get Toothless or take Berk.”

Dagur rolled his eyes. “Bor…ring.” He stepped up to Hiccup and took his chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head just slightly so that their eyes met, bright green to dark emerald. “I don’t care about your stupid dragon and I have no interest in a tiny island like Berk. All I want, all I’ve thought about these last three years is you.” His thumb ran over the gash to Hiccup’s throat, not deep enough to kill but enough to sting and make Hiccup hiss in pain. Dagur watched as a tickling of blood smeared down his pale freckled Adam’s apple and neck. “Every single day I wanted you to suffer as I did and scream…scream in agony and beg for forgiveness and maybe, just maybe I’ll finally forgive you.” He placed a chastised kiss on Hiccup’s cheek before patting it. “You might be small but you’ve always been tough. Twenty lashes. Let’s see if your singing voice has improved any.”

He stepped back and gave a wave before heading off to give orders to the rest of the crew. “I want these ships heading north-west,” he ordered. “We’re retuning to the ice lands. We’re going to find my Skrill!” There was a cheer from all his men and course was plotted to take them away from all civilized lands and to the harsh cold of the north and would bring them close enough to whatever little island the riders had decided to hold up on to hear the punishment their leader would suffer on their behalf.

Everything that was on Hiccup’s person was handed over to Dagur, an assortment of small hunting knives, a compass, charcoal and small notebook and best of all the Dragon Eye. Dagur only knew the basics of how it worked, that it needed a dragon flame to be able to see a hidden map but now that the Nightfury had escaped any chance of having a dragon lead the way seemed next to impossible. There had to be another way to use it.

“Hey,” he said as Hiccup was tied to the main mast, his hands high above his head so that he was stretched to the fullest and up on his tip toes. His front was pressed against the wood and rolls of thick rope, freckled back bare. “Tell me how this works and I’ll make it ten lashes.”

Hiccup closed his eyes and pressed his head against the wood in response.

“Five?” Dagur tried and made his voice as sweet as possible.

“Got a dragon?” Hiccup answered after a moment or two.

“No.”

“Then you’re shit out of luck now aren’t you?” Hiccup gave a hollow laugh and wound his fingers through the rope binding him to the mast and preparing for the worse.

“Maybe you’ll be more forthcoming after Savage displays the kindness Alvin showed me.” He gave Savage a nod and stepped away from Hiccup.

The crack of a whip resounded over the sea for miles around. Hiccup cringed at the sound. He had yet to be struck. The sound was a warning of things to come. The first strike went from his left shoulder all the way to his right hip and despite how much Hiccup tried he couldn’t stop the cry of pain and shock that escaped him. He had been hurt before, punished by his father and tortured by Alvin when he was captured by the Outcasts and they tried to force him to train their dragons but never like this. This stung worse than when he burnt his fingers in the forge and the only thing he could possible compare it to was when he lost his leg to the Red Death.

“You sure you want to go through with this?” Dagur called from somewhere behind him as if this had all been Hiccup’s idea and they were playing some kind of game.

Hiccup panted softly and worked his way through the pain. “You can’t use the Eye without a dragon and even if you had one I would never show you how to use it or help you get your hands on a Skrill.”

“We’ll see. Don’t let the lashes crisscross too much. I don’t want the pain becoming jumbled.” 

Another crack of the whip, another lash across Hiccup’s back and by the fifth one Hiccup could no longer hold back his screams. They rang a split second after each crack, increasing in volume and heard far and wide. Dragons avoided the ships and fled nearby islands and Peaceable boats fishing in the nearby waters choose to move as far from the passing armada as possible. It was heard for miles, all the way to the small island the Dragon Riders had taken refuge and was answered by an equally mournful sound.

Toothless cried out hoping Hiccup could hear him, hoping to offer some sort of support and encouragement to his best friend and rider. The other dragons echoed his calls as their riders tended to Toothless’s injuries.

“What is that?” Tuffnut asked, looking out over the water in hopes of seeing something, an injured sea dragon or something tangible and not what he and everyone else feared it was.

His sister sat at the campfire, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she stared out over the sea as well. “What do you think?” she grumbled.

Astrid refused to follow their gaze and tried to focus on keeping Toothless calm as she and Fishlegs cut at the net. “We should go back and blast them out of the water,” she snarled, her rage growing at being forced to flee as they did.

“That’s what they’ll be expecting,” Fishlegs reasoned, his face flushed with sweat and hands shaking as he sawed away at the ropes but dragon proof netting was not easy to remove from a tangled and injured dragon, especially one as frightened and worried as Toothless. 

Snotlout nodded as he stood on the hill trying to see just where the Berserker armada was like Tuffnut yet unable to see anything through the mists. It made Hiccup’s screams of agony all the more eerie. Nevertheless he kept count of every cry, every crack of a whip. It was silly really. It didn’t matter the number the damage would be extensive even if it was only one. Dagur was sadistic. He enjoyed others’ pain and would make Hiccup suffer just for the joy of it. Just like when they were kids.

The screams seem to last forever when in reality it must have only been five to ten minutes but in the end Snotlout counted twenty terrifying cracks and twenty heart wrenching screams. Twenty. Hiccup had been whipped twenty times. It was a warning for the rest of the riders to keep their distance or Hiccup would suffer far worse, a technique Snotlout father had taught him about when he first entered the pirating program many years ago when Hiccup was still small and defenseless. Then he wouldn’t have thought twice, despite their rivalry and his urge to be heir, Snotlout would have gone after the kid but now…now Hiccup could take care of himself – for the most part – and in that one look they shared, the way Hiccup said his name, Snotlout knew his cousin didn’t want them going after him. Not yet at least. Not with Toothless in such bad shape and not without backup. They had to get to Berk.

Apparently not everyone agreed. Astrid had left Toothless to Fishlegs and was about to mount Stormfly, murderous intent in her bright blue eyes. “Get Toothless to Berk, I’m getting Hiccup,” she announced as she went to pull herself onto her saddle.

Snotlout didn’t think twice, didn’t care about his own safety. He ran at her, grabbing the axe in one hand and wrapping an arm around her waist to yank her down. “You going anywhere near them and Hiccup’s dead,” he said in such a stern voice the other’s looked up. He threw the axe to Tuffnut and wrestled Astrid to the ground, grunting with every punch and kick but willing to take it to keep her from doing something that would get not only her killed but Hiccup, too. There was bloodlust in Astrid’s eyes which made her extremely dangerous but bloodlust also made a warrior more open to mistakes, something that she was unaccustomed to and that gave Snotlout the opening he needed to pin her down. “Stop it!” he yelled in her face. “I know you want to go to him, I know. But stop and think. He’s alive. Yes, he’s hurt but he’s alive. You go in there all blazing fire and Dagur might just kill him or one of his idiot followers.” He took a deep breath and waited for her to calm down a little before continuing more softly. “And what if you’re captured? Don’t think for a moment Dagur won’t use you against him or him against you to get what he wants. Hiccup is strong and unbelievably smart. He’ll find a way to stall Dagur until we have the Berk army behind us. He’ll survive. I promise.”

For a moment it looked as if Astrid might still fight him, maybe even kill him but then she finally stilled and it was as if all the air in her whooshed out and she deflated. Tears of anger and anguish dotted her eyes and she thumped her head back against the rock. She no longer looked like a shield maiden but a scared young girl and for the first time since they were very little Snotlout drew her in his arms and hugged her tight.

“We’re going to get him back,” Snotlout promised. “We’re going to get him back and you’re going to introduce Dagur to the edge of your axe if Toothless don’t get him first.”

A mix between a laugh and a sob escaped her as she hugged him back. Of course first they had to get Toothless untangled from the net, tend to his wings and somehow get him back to Berk otherwise someone would have to go get help, someone stay on the island with Toothless and the others follow the Berserkers from a safe distance. Rescuing Hiccup was not going to be an easy task.


	3. Chapter 3

A War Within 3

The silence was utterly deafening and near crushing once the flogging had finished. Every Berserker had their crossbow aimed skyward, waiting for the attack that would no doubt begin any second. Seconds ticked by slowly and every man was on edge expecting the worse but when seconds turned to minutes that dragged on and on forever one by one they began to relax. Not a sound came from the sky, not the flap of a wing or squawk of a single dragon. 

“Your friends are wiser than I thought,” Dagur purred happily as he stood next to Hiccup observing the sky with a satisfied grin. “Pity really, I was rather looking forward to tormenting that blonde of yours. She’s pretty good with an axe I can’t help but wonder what else she’s good at.”

It was meant as a jibe to get Hiccup going again but the Hooligan heir only made a low painful groan that sounded more animal like than human. He hung from the mast, his legs having given out shortly after the last lash went across his back, his body trembling from shock, the red raw meat of his back a startling contrast to his usually pale freckled flesh. His face was hidden against the crock of his left arm, auburn hair soaked with sweat and clinging to his equally sweaty face. He was panting, perhaps even hyperventilating and most likely had not heard a word Dagur had said.

The Berserker chief took a few minutes to admire Savage’s handiwork. He had sworn years ago that no one word lay a hand on Hiccup but him however after everything Dagur had suffered at Alvin’s hands thanks to Hiccup he didn’t trust him not to lose control and unintentionally kill the runt – well he wasn’t such a runt anymore. In fact Hiccup had grown up quite nicely in Dagur’s three year absence. Not as muscular as Dagur but he was tall, nearly six feet and an inch or so talker than the Berserker chief. His arms were still like noodles but there was some definition to them, the hint of muscle but he was still very feminine in build and looked far too soft. Maybe it was a teenage thing. Perhaps – if he lived long enough – he’d grow into more of a man. Dagur hoped not. Dangling from the mast with only thick ropes holding him up and back torn open to look like raw meat while his body trembled, Hiccup looked utterly helpless and strangely arousing but then Dagur always did get off on pain, even his own. Once Hiccup was completely broken he would look breathtaking.

“I want clean clothes, now,” Dagur ordered Captain Vorg as he gently traced one of the lashes, the only one that wasn’t completely meshed in with all the others. Blood poured down Hiccup’s back. It wasn’t enough to cause him to bleed to death – Dagur had way too many plans for his brother to allow that – but it was enough to make his point and may be of other use. He took the clothes from Vorg and pressed one at a time to Hiccup’s back, grinning sadistically at each cry and hiss that escaped Hiccup’s lips. “Sh…sh…it’s alright, brother. It’s alright. You did so much better than I ever imagined,” he cooed softly as he mopped up the blood with one after another wad of cloth. “Twenty lashes and you didn’t even faint. That’s impressive. It’s something to be proud of. I’m proud of you.” 

It sounded as if Hiccup might have tried making some snide remark but Dagur couldn’t be sure. Hiccup’s voice was broken and choked with tears to the point his words – if they were words – made no sense.

“Speak up, Hiccup, our short hand’s not that good,” Dagur urged before shrugging and turning toward Vorg once more. “Pass these to every ship and make sure they’re tied to every mast,” he ordered then turned to Savage. “Separate the armada into six teams. My flag ship will be accompanied by four others. Every other team will be made of three and sent in every direction. Any and all dragon riders are to be killed on sight. Four dragons can’t track six groups of fully armed battle ships.”

“No, sir,” Savage said in agreement as he fiddle with the whip in his hands and admired his handiwork on Hiccup’s back. “What are your plans for the boy?”

Dagur growled, recognizing that hateful look in Savage’s eyes. “My plans are my own just as Hiccup belongs to me and only me. You will only touch him when I allow it.” He called for two of his warriors to come to him. “Take my new pet to the brig and remove that metal leg. I won’t take any chances. Be gentle…we have a Skrill to find.”

Hiccup’s wounds were not treated, not that first day. Dagur used his blood to coat the clothes with his scent, making sure it was so strong that dragon rider searching for him was sure to go after one of the decoy ships heading far from the main convoy. Every ship within Dagur’s group was kept immaculate and filled with the heavy scent of herbs and spices as if they were Peaceable ships travelling to the far northern countries for trade so Dagur wasn’t in a hurry to tend to Hiccup’s wounds and was more than willing to let them scar. 

Excitement filled Dagur. He was on such a high that nothing could anger him. He studied the Dragon Eye for hours trying to remember what the Gustav kid had told him and how it was operated. He needed a dragon but the Nightfury was gone now, no doubt dead or soon to be. If he had caught one of Hiccup’s precious riders he could have made them show him how to use it, forced them to guide him to whatever grand treasure it was hiding. Alas all he had was Hiccup and he was in no condition to be of use just yet. Dagur wasn’t a patient man though. He kept checking on Hiccup, hurrying down to the brig every hour or so and standing at his cell willing him to move or talk or something, anything but the Dragon Master only lay on his side, back to the bars until late the next morning when Dagur finally ran out of patience.

“Wakey, wakey!” Dagur crooned as he dumped a bucket of ice cold sea water over Hiccup.

The cold brought new shock to Hiccup but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the salt meeting his open wounds. His body jerked and he screamed, trying to roll away only to have his body shake so badly he couldn’t even make it to his hands and knees. He gasped and panted, his world shifting and making little sense as large fingers tangled in his hair and yanked his head painfully back. His vision swam and it took great concentration for him to make out the voice talking to him. “Dagur?” he croaked, blinking rapidly in hope of clearing his vision.

Dagur squatted in front of him, one hand cupping Hiccup’s cheek almost tenderly. “My men have spent half the night capturing you a dragon, brother. It’s not much but should be enough to operate my Dragon Eye,” he purred, his thumb massaging Hiccup’s bruised jaw gently. “Time to show me how it works.”

Hiccup blinked again, his eye sight not coming back fully yet and body hurting in ways he never thought possible. It felt as if someone had tried ripping out his inners through his back. Nonetheless he had heard what Dagur wanted and tried to shake his head. “Water,” he managed to mumbled. His throat hurt. It felt like it was closing up. It was so dry, so scratchy and raw but his mind could not come up with the memory why. All he remembered was agony and screaming.

Miraculously a bladder of cool fresh water was brought to his lips and he drank greedily from it as if it had been forever since he last drank anything.

“Whoa…whoa…” Dagur cooed, pulling the bladder back and letting a little splash over Hiccup’s face. “Not so fast or you’ll make yourself sick.” He waited a moment for Hiccup to catch his breath. “Now what about my Dragon Eye?”

“I’m not showing you how to operate the Dragon Eye,” Hiccup breathed, his gaze hazy as he looked up at Dagur. “I won’t let you turn it into a weapon.”

Dagur stared at him in shock, not really expecting someone as physically small and weak to still be so defiant but then this wouldn’t be Hiccup if he wasn’t defying the norm and namely Dagur. The young chief sat back on his heels. “Uh…okay. Do you want some more water? Your throat must be parch. You were screaming worse than a Valkyrie on the warpath.” He patted Hiccup’s shoulder as he nodded to Savage. “Hiccup’s thirsty, be a doll and give him some more water.”

Hiccup let out his breath, a little hope returning to be when Dagur didn’t strike out. He was in so much pain he didn’t think he could handle much more but he wasn’t going to let Dagur break him. He wasn’t going to allow Dagur to find any sort of weapon, be it whatever secrets the Dragon Eye held or the Skrill. Maybe…maybe he could finally talk some sense in Dagur. But the tip of the bladder never met his lips. There was the slosh of water and then a tug on his hair before his head was suddenly and sharply shoved down into a bucket of ice salt water and his head completely submerged. Hiccup’s hands instantly went to the ground and he struggled to shove back against Savage but all this served to do was pressed his ravaged back into the man and send such searing pain through him that Hiccup screamed into the water and inadvertently swallowed a mouth full.

The Berserker chief watched with interest as Hiccup struggled, much like he did his prey when he hunted for sport, enjoying those moments when they were about to go into the throes of death. He had Savage pull Hiccup’s head out of the water before things got that far. The former Outcast dropped Hiccup on the floor and sat back as the youth vomited up water and went into a coughing fit.

“Should we try again?” Dagur purred, idly brushing wet strains of hair from Hiccup’s face.

“Go to Hel,” Hiccup choked, tears streaking down his cheeks but unwilling to give up. He was dunked into the water four more times before consciousness fled and he was left in darkness and nightmares once more.

Disappointed Dagur stood over Hiccup, his brows furrowed and a frown tugging at his lips. He didn’t understand. He had large men, stronger men than Hiccup cave much quicker than this. Short of taking body parts the Berserker chief wasn’t sure of his next step. One thing he knew for certain was that he was hard. Every scream to escape Hiccup was like music to him, a lover’s plea for more. Ever jerk and spasm was like a dance and summons to be filled. He had never been so excited by Hiccup since that day on Dragon Island when Dagur had determined they were brothers and meant to be together. He was right to think of them as brothers. Hiccup was far tougher than even the men serving under Dagur. If torture would not break Hiccup then perhaps a little kindness. Besides, his injures had to be looked after before they became seriously infected. In wouldn’t do to let his pet die by infection. A leg or arm was one thing. Hiccup really didn’t need either for what Dagur had planned.

Very gently, Hiccup had suffered enough for now, Dagur lifted Hiccup onto his shoulder and carried him away from the brig and to the other side of the large vessel to his and to his chambers. Savage followed close behind but was sent away when he tried entered his chieftain’s private chambers. Dagur’s eyes narrowed as he watched the usually timid man walk away. It seemed with Hiccup in their custody Savage had actually grown a pair of balls, but then they all had suffered in prison thanks to Hiccup and revenge was something the entire crew felt was necessary but Hiccup was his and no one, no one was touching him.

He gently laid Hiccup on his belly on the small cot that served as the only bed but was much better than sleeping on a cold rock floor every night. Just the thought of it sent a wave of rage and fear through him and for a moment his fingers dug into Hiccup’s pliant body, making the younger man whimper softly. With great effort Dagur banished those dark thoughts. Hiccup would pay for his lies and for helping Alvin enslave them. He would break and submit to Dagur’s will or lose his mind.

. . .

Toothless was in bad shape. His wing was torn which meant he couldn’t fly no matter how much he tried. The Nightfury whined and kept howling in the direction he last heard Hiccup’s screams. He pawed at the ground and flexed his wings, trying over and over again to take to the air for more than a few feet. He acted even worse whenever one of the riders took off in that direction to try and locate the Berserkers. His howls grew in volume and anyone listening would thought he was being tortured. It became impossible to separate the riders without the dragon going insane. In the end Snotlout decided it best if they went back to Berk and got reinforcements. It wouldn’t be nearly as quick as they hoped. Toothless might be light compared to the other dragons but he was still heavy compared to his human companions and they forced to island hop all the way to Berk in order to give Toothless and Hookfang, who was carrying him, a break when needed. Help wasn’t coming any time soon.

. . .

When Hiccup awoke next he was disoriented, confused and strangely numb. Wherever he was it was surprisingly bright compared to the dank cell he had been in for the last two days. Was this Valhalla? He lifted his head slowly and blinked crusty, blurry eyes. His lashes stuck together slightly making it hard to decipher where he was but he smelt food, fresh bread and sweet meats and his stomach rumbled reminding him it had been forever since he last ate.

“Easy, don’t try moving just yet,” a familiar voice whispered gently. A blessedly cool cloth dabbed at his back while gentle fingers softly carded through his hair.

Hiccup murmured appreciatively and let his head fall back on the mattress. His eyes closed and when next they opened the room was slightly darker and a few hours must have passed. The grit over his eyes were gone and his face damp, the scent of sea water no longer clogging his nose. His body still felt pleasantly numb. Even his head felt as if there was cotton had been shoved in it as if he had the biggest cold since he was five. A familiar soft humming could be heard in the distance.

“Daddy,” his mumbled, raising his head yet unable to make out anything clearly. “Dad?” He had to be home. He felt as if he was being gently rocked by his father or Gobber and it made him relax. He was home in bed and the nausea would go away soon enough.

A soft chuckle met his words and a gentle hand cupped the back of his head. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” he answered honestly.

“Any pain?”

Hiccup had to think. He couldn’t feel anything, not even his legs. That wasn’t good, he realized and it was like being slapped in the face. All of a sudden he remembered everything and the pain came rushing back. He gasped in freight and instinct took over. He rolled away from the hand on his head, crying out in pain but refusing to let anyone touch him. Scrambling to his hands and knees and pinned himself in the corner between of the bed against the wall and stared at Dagur with wide fearful eyes with just the barest hint of defiance, a defiance that was quickly wavering when as the muscles of his back tore open healing lacerations. 

Dagur raised his hands to show he meant no harm and backed away from the Dragon Master. “Lay back down,” he said in what sounded like a very reasonable thing for Hiccup to do. “It’s alright, you’re safe.”

Hiccup looked around the room wildly, mentally taking in everything and judging his chases of making it to the door before Dagur caught him. His chest rose and fell rapidly and any logical part of his mind went dormant in his desperation. Without a second thought he launched himself off the bed, believing ten long strides would give him a chance at freedom only to land hard on his less than a step later when he came to the harsh realization that he only had one leg, that his prosthetic had been lost to him and he was indeed helpless. But he did let that stop him, didn’t really register it as he kicked and dragged himself as far from Dagur as he could get and into a position he could defend even if that was only with his talons and teeth, thinking more like a dragon than a human.

“Whoa,” Dagur breathed in both surprise and admiration. The person in front of him was not the Hiccup he thought he knew, this was a feral dragon and his instinct to hunt and conquer returned but he pushed it aside. He needed Hiccup under his control. 

Getting low Dagur got to Hiccup’s height. “Hey, what are you doing, hiding in the corner like a little boy in trouble with his daddy? Stoick’s not here, Hiccup. There’s no one here to hurt you but me.”

Wild emerald eyes looked from Dagur to the door and back.

“You’re not going to make it and even if you did there’s like a bazillion Berserkers who’d beat the crap out of you just for trying to escape.”

Hiccup shifted and he looked like he might just try for the door regardless of Dagur’s warning.

Dagur’s voice softened as if speaking to a wounded animal, something he really was good at because normally he’d just tear it to pieces for the sheer pleasure of it. “You’re not going to run very far with only one leg,” he said reasonably as he inched toward the younger man, a hand slightly in front of him. “Now take a deep breath and think. It’s just you and me here, two brothers just talking like brothers should.”

“We’re not brothers,” Hiccup wheezed, reason slowly returning.

“No? Haven’t I always stood next to you? Did I help you get that Astrid girl to notice you even before you began training dragons?” He kept his voice calm and smile sweet.

“You tried to drown me,” Hiccup answered but it was like he was slowly waking from a dream and seemed unsure.

“I made her save you.”

“My friends will save me.”

It took a moment to realise what Hiccup was talking about now and Dagur’s smile grew. “What friends? Those dragon riders? They abandoned you, brother. They listened to you screams and pleas for help but it’s been here three days and they haven’t even attempted a rescue once. They stole your dragon and ran away.”

Hiccup’s head shook desperately and tears rolled down his cheeks. Huddled in the corner as he was, made him look more like a ten year old than nineteen. “Toothless…”

“Gone, maybe even dead.”

The boy’s eyes closed and tears rolled down his cheeks. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind, his pain still raw and emotions right at the surface. He inhaled sharply when Dagur gently eased him out of the corner and helped limp across the room to a large table with a mound of food. 

“Eat slowly or you’ll be sick,” Dagur warned like a good big brother as he brushed Hiccup’s shaggy hair out of his eyes. When Hiccup didn’t immediately reach for something to eat he took a tankard of mead and held it to Hiccup’s lips. “Drink and eat,” he instructed. He gave Hiccup endless mead that mixed with the pain and mental exhaustion finally had the young heir giving up all the secrets to the Dragon Eye and even a few key secrets to dragon training. He had done what Alvin the Treacherous could not.


	4. Chapter 4

A War Within 4

Berk was a beautiful paradise for dragons and Vikings alike. It wasn’t always that way. Once it had been plagued with war and its people on the verge of starving to death but Hiccup had changed all that. A child barely into his fifteenth season had gone against the norm and befriended one of the deadly beasts and showed that Vikings and dragons could live in peace and virtually become one as he had with his Nightfury Toothless. Two beings that shared one soul. Soulmates took on a different meaning on Berk and proved that one’s heart could belong to something other than another human and not in a sexual way. Hiccup and Toothless were joined at the hip, never one far from another and if so not for very long.

These thoughts always brought a bemused smile to Stoick’s lips as he went about his daily rounds with his new companion, Skullcrusher, flying around the island to make sure of the progress of the dragon hanger and hatchery. He couldn’t wait to see his son and show him just how far they had progressed while he was away with the other riders at Dragon’s Edge. In fact now that the riders were racing around and having endless competitions or chasing ship through it the work was commencing quickly should be done by their next visit home. Stoick couldn’t wait for that. He still wasn’t used to Hiccup being so far from home and he tended to worry about his boy quite a bit. Hiccup had never been away from home for more than a day or two and with Dagur roaming free out there Stoick couldn’t help but worry. Hiccup was a smart boy and with Toothless by his side could pretty much take care of himself but that didn’t mean accidents didn’t happen or that he didn’t have moments when he was careless and fool hardy. He was still a teen after all and filled with a sense of adventure that often made him restless. Stoick had to trust that his boy wouldn’t get in over his head.

Maybe it was a sense of foreboding, that sudden ache that something just wasn’t right that made him look off in the distance toward the far off shores of Dragon’s Edge. Something deep in his gut twisted uncomfortably but lasted barely a moment as glee replaced it. Far in the distance he saw the familiar specks of four dragons. Four? The largest of them, a Monstrous Nightmare, seemed burden with something. His glee turned to fear the closer they came and he was able to make out Toothless’s limp form suspended from Hookfang’s talons.

Without thought he ordered his Rumblehorn to meet the riders before they reached Berk, subconsciously praying his son was not injured as well and was just catching a ride with one of his friends, no doubt the beautiful Astrid or his cousin, Snotlout, both of whom had dragons able to handle a secondary rider. It wasn’t long before he realised that Hiccup was not with them.

“What happened?” he demanded, not meaning to sound so harsh to the obviously exhausted and shaken group of young people but that age old fear that consumed any parent when their child went missing hit him and it took sheer will power not to race off and search for his son without hearing the facts first.

“Dagur,” Astrid said with the same amount of venom, her tired and bloodshot eyes revealing her rage and anger at losing her dearest friend, one who was just a breath’s width from being her boyfriend and maybe one day husband. 

Snotlout, who normally didn’t seem to care too much about what happened to his younger cousin looked nearly as mad and upset as the girl. “It was a surprise attack. They shot Toothless out of the sky and caught him.”

“And?” Stoick demanded, not enjoying the idea that his son’s friends might have abandoned him.

Shame colored the cheeks of all the riders except Snotlout. “We followed orders and left him,” he said matter-of-factly in a tone Stoick had never heard before, one that was even challenging him. “Hiccup said that if Dagur ever caught him that under no circumstances was I to allow anyone else to be captured.” His voice softened slightly at his uncle’s surprise. “Dagur is a sadist, sir, he would have tortured each of us until Hiccup submitted. He would have chopped Toothless to pieces right before his eyes and…” His gaze shifted to Astrid before looking away. “He would have done worse to us just for the pleasure of hearing Hiccup plead for our lives. I did exactly as he asked me to and brought everyone home.”

Stoick stared at his nephew for a long time. Snotlout was not one to normally follow Hiccup’s orders. He would act as if he knew better or break off on his own. Something drastic between the two must have happened while they were gone for Snotlout to do as he was told without question and for Hiccup to hold such trust over him to follow through.

“Where are the Berserkers now?” Stoick demanded, intent on going after his boy on his own.

Fishlegs shook his head. “I’m not sure, sir…but if we don’t tend to Toothless he might lose his wing and if we do find Hiccup having him come home to a grounded and crippled best friend might be more than he can take.”

The chief’s dark green eyes took in Toothless’s wounded and possibly broken body and his chest tightened at the torn wing hanging limply from one side and deep scarring cuts along the entire body. This was the worse shape he had ever seen the Nightfury in and the fear of him not making it much longer became all too real as the dragon whimpered and whined, obviously wanting his Hiccup and fearing for him just as much as the others if not more so. The worse thing was, if Toothless could not be healed Stoick might be forced to put him down, and event that if Dagur hadn’t already killed Hiccup would surely result in the boy’s death either way.

. . .

With Hiccup in shock and his mind not completely there he was relatively easy to control. He didn’t exactly do as he was told, he seemed incapable of even the simplest things at times but that was primarily due to the pain constantly racing up and down his body that would cause him to tremble and shaking uncontrollably at the most unsuspecting times. Infection had begun to set in and a fever topped off his list of growing ailments. He was delirious with pain, fever and drink and mistaking Berserkers for Hooligans and more than once called to Savage or Vorg thinking they were either Stoick or that bubbling idiot Gobber. It was quite amusing at first. One moment Hiccup would be sitting at the table staring at the food but too afraid to touch it the next he would try to stand up forgetting he was not wearing his prosthetic or forgetting he was missing a leg all together and end up tumbling to the floor where he would sit and mope and not bother trying to get back up until Dagur urged him to do so. But as amusing as it was to watch his rival flounder around like a lost two year it was also quite worrisome and soon Dagur put Hiccup back to bed and decided to take another look at the lacerations adorning his back.

Infection was the primary killer at sea, it was the reason so many were forced to have amputations and so many more died from them. A layer of green goo mixed with horrid red and yellow scabs, never a good sign. Dagur had left them in hopes of using the cleaning process as another way of torturing Hiccup and forcing him to submit. He hadn’t expected the younger boy to crack the way he had. It might only be a temporary lapse for Hiccup, his mind and body collapsing unexpectedly and there still may be a lot of fight left in him, which Dagur was sure of, but he couldn’t take the chance of losing Hiccup and all his precious knowledge now.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned, brushing his lips over one bare shoulder as Hiccup shivered underneath him in the increasing cold. The ship was nearing the ice waters of the north and getting increasingly closer to where Dagur’s Skrill was last seen battle Hiccup and his Nightfury. “But it’s necessary if we’re going to keep you alive.”

There was a soft whimper and Hiccup turned his face away from Dagur. “Let me die,” he pleaded, momentary coherent thought returning.

“Hush…now why would I do that?” Dagur cooed gently. “We haven’t even starting your retraining. By the time I have you patched up you’ll remember who your brother is.” He pressed his lips to the side of Hiccup’s head. “And who will always be here to take care of you.”

By nature Dagur wasn’t a gentle man. Oh he tried to be caring in his own fashion but the long and short of it was that he really didn’t know how. He removed the dressing he had placed on Hiccup earlier with a hard yank when he stuck to the oozing scabs, tearing them open once more and making Hiccup jerk with a scream that he tried muffling against a pillow. The youth’s back bled anew and Hiccup’s trembling grew worse. Dagur clucked his tongue disapprovingly as he surveyed the damage. Yep, infected and sure to leave horrific scars for decades to come. A sure reminder to all how dare oppose Dagur. 

Never one to take things slow with a just cause, Dagur grabbed a bottle of whiskey from a shelf, checked to see the year and percentage then popped open the cap with his teeth. “I never realized Johann had such extravagant tastes until I stole his ship and treasures. You know he never trades this stuff with anyone and I would have paid big had I known. This for instance was brewed over a hundred years ago. It’s the strongest stuff in the Archipelago. You should feel honored, brother, because I’m using it all to help you.” He cackled in delight at his own joke and took a deep swig. “Whoa…I wasn’t lying.” Then he upended the bottle and poured two thirds of the contents over Hiccup’s torn up bare back.

Whisky, like many alcohols, could be used as an antiseptic. It ate up the bacteria and cleaned the wound but it hurt like hell, sometimes worse that when the injury was inflicted. Hiccup screamed, unable to hold his cries in or muffle them against the pillow. His back felt on fire he begged and pleaded for Dagur to stop, to just end it and kill him but Dagur did the opposite as he always did. Puss bubbled from the lacerations and Dagur meticulously cleaned it all from Hiccup back before pouring yet more alcohol over them causing Hiccup to thrash and scream all the more. Over and over this procedure continued until there was no more puss, no more goo and the stink of infection was replaced by whisky and clean bright red blood and the meat of trembling muscles. Oh Hiccup did look good covered in his own gore. Almost good enough to eat.

Remarkably Hiccup hadn’t lost consciousness. He lay there shivering either from the cold or renewed shock. “Please…please kill me,” he whimpered as Dagur smoothed his hair. He looked and sounded exactly like the little boy Dagur used to terrorize.

The Berserker chieftain shushed him once more with a kiss to one trembling shoulder. He was hard again, Hiccup’s agony and whimpers such a turn on that he could no longer ignore it. He pressed his groin into the side of the cot as he kissed a trail over each lash, his tongue dipping in to lap at blood and nip raw meat. Each time Hiccup squirmed more and cried like a lost child seeking his mommy and it only spurred Dagur more, made him all the more harder and need almost desperate. He felt constricted in his armor, his manhood stretching through his breaches as if trying to get to Hiccup on its own and Dagur was about to do away with the blasted metal if he were not torn away from his new play thing.

The door to his chamber opened suddenly and Savage barged. He stopped short as if just realizing his actions and the fact his young chieftain was presently occupied with his pet. “Sir, we’ve reached the ice lands,” he reported, eyeing Hiccup’s bloodied back and the smear of blood covering Dagur’s lips and chin. “Ah…you might want him to point out where he hid you’re Skrill.”

Licking his lips, Dagur glanced back down at Hiccup. He supposed he it might be for the best if he gave his brother some time to properly heal. His back looked as it something inside him had exploded outward but at least the infection was gone and he could heal now. “See what sort of healing balm is on this ship. I don’t want him getting a second infection.”

A few minutes later Savage returned with a jar of waxy healing balm that smelt strongly of crushed herbs. Dagur used it liberality and rubbed vast amounts into Hiccup’s back, exciting more pain filled cries and squirming, each exciting Dagur almost to the point of losing control of himself and cumming right then and there. No one made him feel the way Hiccup did, not even that girl his men had given him for his birthday that look remarkably like a female version of Hiccup. She had been fun to torment and never excited him as much as Hiccup’s feeble attempts to get away from him.

A long roll of clean, brand new cotton was used to bind Hiccup’s back and ribs. A few of the less friendly Berserkers had taken liberties to kick Hiccup around in his cell a bit when Dagur wasn’t looking as pay back for helping Alvin imprison them for the last three years and had managed to break two of his ribs before Dagur caught them and threw them overboard. It explained the wobbly, wheezing breathing that sounded as if Hiccup had something rattling in his chest each time he took a breath. Dagur let himself be used as a crutch as he helped the Hooligan back up on deck, not trusting him with the prosthetic leg. It wasn’t as if Hiccup could run away but Dagur didn’t want to take any chances with Hiccup. Besides, the way their bodies brushed together was almost enough to get Dagur off. Knowing it might be some time before they even came close to finding the iceberg with his Skrill help captive inside, he brought along the Dragon Eye, wanting to know more about how it worked so that once he had his Skrill they could find his treasure.

He bundled Hiccup in furs and treated him as a prized possession that he doted on and pressed against as they peered out over the white expanse of the frigid northern waters adorned with white mountains of ice floating all around them. “Where is she, Hiccup?” he purred in his ear as he ran one large hand under the fur and over the leather of the smaller man’s trousers. “Where did you hide my, baby?” He wrapped his arms around Hiccup, taking a moment to breath in the scent of Hiccup mused and still sweaty hair and marvel over the fact that at some point over the last three years Hiccup had surpassed him in height if only by an inch or two. All he wanted right not was to get rid of his armor and dig his cock into Hiccup’s tight virgin ass and finally make him his. No one could take Hiccup from him then, no one would dare. The Hooligans would never accept Hiccup as heir and Stoick would have to choice another, no doubt that loud mouth cousin of Hiccup’s. Dagur had nearly lost it all when Alvin brutally raped him in an effort to break him but there was a big difference between Dagur and Hiccup. Dagur loved pain and used it as a weapon whether it was him suffering or not. Hiccup may be accustomed to the daily pain of being an amputee but not torture, not like what Dagur happily administered. But pain could quickly be turned to pleasure if you knew how to do it right.

The cold must have snapped some sense back into Hiccup. He blinked owlishly for a moment before gaining his bearings. “Where are we?” he questioned as he stared out over the towering icebergs.

“Near the ice lands,” Dagur breathed against his neck, sending little shivers down the length of Hiccup’s body and making the crew watch them with curiosity, some obviously wanting to see if their leader would rape the boy on the deck for all to see and maybe participate. His hand slid down Hiccup’s thigh then up into the fur to his bare belly, just ghosting over his clothes manhood. “I know it’s been a long time but you’re super smart and a memory that never fades. Where did you imprison her?”

Hiccup did have a surprisingly good memory and even after three years he could still see the mountain of ice that towered nearly as tall as the highest peak on Berk, the cave of ice he and Toothless as sped through as the Skrill chased them. He remembered how smooth the ice was and how it had worked as a mirror so that the Skrill had mistaken it for them and crashed into it. He remembered the heat it took from the Barf and Belch to melt it and seal the creature deep inside. They weren’t far. He raised one hand shakily toward what appeared to be a far off island towering over the icebergs many miles away. “There,” he whispered. “She’s there.”

“Good boy,” Dagur purred, a jolt of happiness running through him. “Now you can show me exactly how this works.” 

He went to turn Hiccup around so he can sit on a crate but the youth suddenly began flailing his arms like a madman and knocked them both off balance before grabbing the Dragon Eye and suddenly, unexpectedly, threw it out to sea with screamed, “NO!” as if it was a poisonous snake about to bite him.

Silence fell over the deck and everyone stared in shock at Hiccup as the boy clung to the side of the ship, his body tittering without the support of his prosthetic. Dagur expected to see shock and confusion on the Hooligan’s face but what he saw was sorrow and grim satisfaction. Dagur righted himself and without so much as a second thought brought his fist across Hiccup’s jaw, splitting his bottom lip and sending him sprawling to the deck. It would appear his brother was not yet broken let alone knowing his place. It was time to rectify that.

“Take him back to my chambers and leave on the floor like the pathetic dog he is,” he ordered two of his men before glaring at the rest. “The rest of you, fish the Dragon Eye out of the water before it sinks or the lot of you are going swimming after it!” He took a moment to compose himself as he stared at where the Dragon Eye landed and was slowly sinking, the hollow center making it buoyant, but if it wasn’t rescued soon it and all its lenses would be lost. Or maybe not. Hiccup was notorious for writing stuff down and not doubt drew each and every map into his notebook. Perhaps he didn’t need the Dragon Eye or dragons at all to find whatever treasure it had kept hidden. All he needed was Hiccup.

He followed his men as the dragged Hiccup back down to his chambers, his mind racing with new plans. He wanted the Dragon Eye found if only to taunt Hiccup that no matter what he tried there was no winning. They weren’t kids anymore and no matter how cunning and clever Hiccup was he was nothing compared to Dagur’s brute force. “Put him on the table,” he ordered, surprising his men who were about to dump Hiccup on the floor as earlier commanded. “Remove the furs and pull down the bandages on his chest.” He gave a snort when he finally took a good look at the younger boy’s hairless chest. “You’re still nothing but a walking fishbone. There’s like no definition…no muscle. You should at least some pecks by now.” He shook his head in amusement. Well that was something he would correct soon enough. By the time he was done with Hiccup no one would recognize him.

He left the men to tend to Hiccup while he poked at the fire in the hearth, his mind racing with a suitable punishment for Hiccup’s latest transgression. “You never asked me about my scar,” he said as he absently ran his fingers over the right side of his face where deep gorges had been cut into his flesh nearly two years earlier. “I thought for sure that would be the first thing you wanted to know about when we saw each other again. After all it was your fault. You had us locked away. I tried escaping lots of times and nearly killed Alvin in an attempt to get to you. I nearly lost my eye when he decided to mark me.” He turned and held up a deadly looking blade that was stained with blood. “You see he took this and dug into my right here to the bone and slowly drew it all the way across by cheek and then again over my eye.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t really a big deal and they were just discussing beauty marks. “I guess he wanted me to see so he was a little gentler there. I never did ask him why before a slit his throat with the same blade but oh well…didn’t feel like listening to his babble anymore anyway. But he was rather artistic, wasn’t he?”

“Dagur…” Hiccup whispered, still a little out of sorts but a bit of his old self returning. “I don’t care what you do to me, I’m not giving you the Dragon Eye.”

“Gee Hiccup, did I punch you too hard? You just threw the Dragon Eye into the sea. Don’t worry, my men are fishing it out and I’ll have it back soon enough.” He patted Hiccup’s cheek almost lovingly. “Now I was talking and you so rudely interrupted. You’re as rude as a baby brother gets, aren’t you. Now where was I? Oh yes, artistic! I’m rather artistic, too, and you’re such a great canvas. I mean your back is a work of art! Savage’s mind you but I think it’s time I put my mark on you, too.” He ran the type of the knife over Hiccup’s closed eye. “I wonder what Stoick would do if I sent him one of your eyes? Or maybe your tongue, although that does have a lot of uses I have yet to try out.” He moved further downward, across his chest and taunt belly until he reached Hiccup’s covered groin. “What about your manhood? Or perhaps I should send that to your girlfriend so that she has something to remember you by?”

The two men had to hold Hiccup down harder as he began to squirm and placed a lot of pressure on his already sensitive back. Dagur idly traced the outline of Hiccup’s dick as hummed thoughtfully. 

“No…Dagur, please…please don’t…” Hiccup pleaded, gazing down the length of his body at the Berserker chief with big pleading eyes. Now they were getting somewhere.

Dagur patted the small bulge lovingly. “You’re cock’s safe for now. I might just send your other leg home instead. It’s not as if you need legs.” He cackled evilly at the horror that filled Hiccup’s face and one of the men grabbed his right leg to steady it for a sudden amputation. “Fear has a funny way of waking people up, doesn’t it?” He waved the man to free Hiccup’s leg. He wasn’t about to take that, not yet at least but seeing Hiccup so scared that he was literally quaking in his boot was certainly fun. He rubbed the leg soothingly before fetching an odd shape poker and shoving it in the fire. “We’re going to have so much fun, Hiccup! Just like when we were kids.” He poked around the fire a little more. “Remember when we used to paint and I’d always put mine all over you to mark you as mine? Well this will be a little more permanent.” Pulling the poker out he held it out to see the bright red brand on the end, the symbol of the Berserkers, the Skrill. “Hold him steady.”

Hiccup tried to jerk free and almost managed to break their hold, his fear fueling his strength until one of the men jabbed him hard in the back and wrestled him into a sitting position. “Dagur…don’t!” the boy screamed but it was too late to do anything. The searing hot brand was thrust against his chest, directly over his heart and a new sort of agony filled Hiccup as his flesh bubbled and cooked and the scent of burning meat filled his nostrils. The smell alone was near choking by the pain, the never ceased even when Dagur pulled the brand away. A stinking black powder was tapped onto the burn while it still bubbled and made the sensation sting all the more. 

It all happened in a relatively short time, an expanse of seconds that felt like an eternity to Hiccup but once the mark was in place the men let him go and he tumbled to his side on the table, his front now hurting as much as his back. He didn’t whimper this time he flat out cried, tears streaming down his face and now more than ever he wished Dagur would just kill him and be done with it. He didn’t pay attention when the men left but knew he was alone with the psychotic Berserker the moment the door slammed shut.

Dagur leaned against the door and took stock of his precious prize that was growing more beautiful with every new mark to befall his freckled pale skin. “You know, you make me do these things, brother. First you lied to me about the dragons, then you kept fighting me every chance you got, and rather than simply giving me the Dragon Eye you kept stealing it back from me and now…now you tried to lose it for both of us. A little selfish, don’t you think?”

Hiccup said nothing, he couldn’t, the pain was too great.

“Well, we won’t have to worry about that anymore, no? Now you’re marked as my slave and we both know slaves can’t be chiefs,” Dagur continued, shaking his head as if this was the worse news he could give someone.

“You’re a slave,” Hiccup managed to choke out.

“Oh brother, brother, brother. I never had a master and Alvin is dead and not one of my men would dare make such a claim. I am and always will be their chief. But you,” his voice became cheery. “You were just an heir and now you’re nothing but whatever I say you are. Now don’t cry, it’s alright. You have a special place here with me and I’m going to take good care of you and all your needs. I’m going to make it all better.” He kissed Hiccup’s brow and gently patted at the burn with a cool wet cloth until some of the sting ebbed. He spoke gently and softly until Hiccup’s pain filled sobs became a trickle of tears that stuck to his long eye lashes and gave him that feminine look once more. His pain had always been something Dagur feasted upon but this was so much more delicious that when they were kids. It more than all the other pain Hiccup had suffered aroused Dagur to the point he could no longer wait to claim what was so rightfully his.

He removed his armor, dropping it in a carefree pile on the floor then pealed the layers of old tattered clothing he had worn every day for the past three years as if just realizing that he stood there in these old rags while Hiccup was bent before him in new leather breaches. And not just any leather but finely tooled leather died green. Even though the boy mostly did the work himself it seemed a tad unfair. Dagur held his temper in check and carefully pealed the trousers off Hiccup. There was no other clothing his size and until they landed somewhere with a decent market place it would be good to keep just in case.

Hiccup lower half was just as badly bruised as his upper half due to the numerous beatings he had taken in his short stay but they lent another layer of beauty to him. He made a choked sound when Dagur’s large hands moved appreciatively over his back side and down between his legs to stroke his limp cock. “Please…” he whispered, wanting the man to stop touching him. If Dagur raped him he would lose everything, far more than his chiefdom. He would lose any chance with Astrid. No woman would ever want him and any chance of him being a father would be gone, but of course Dagur had to twist it around.

“Impatient, aren’t we,” Dagur purred, thumbing the head of Hiccup’s length. “Don’t worry, pet.” He took his own length in one hand and gave it a few hard jerks to ensure he was good and hard. Then, taking Hiccup’s butt cheeks in both hands he spread them wide so he could see the quivering hole hidden beneath. Dagur wasn’t much for lube, he enjoyed the suffering of others, but since he wanted Hiccup completely broken and reliant on him he did the decent thing – at least in his mind – and lapped at the tight ring, working it until it loosened of its own accord then proceeded to tongue fuck it, almost laughing when Hiccup gasped and pushed back, trying to escape whatever Dagur had found deep inside him. “Right there, hmm?” he hummed as he stood. With a little spit on his cock just to make that first slid a little easier, Dagur pushed in. He talked the whole time Hiccup whimpered and cried. “There, you like that, baby. A big cock in your ass is what you always wanted, MY big cock up your ass. Don’t deny it, brother, I remember the way you used to watch me dress as the swimming hole. In and out just like this. That’s right, babe…oh you’re real tight. You want me right here, uh?” He pushed all the way in, moaning in delight at the way Hiccup’s muscles clamped down on in, holding him in one place and threatening to suck the rest of him inside. He had never had anyone clamp down on him so hard and it felt so good, like Hiccup was milking him and he knew, he knew, that Hiccup wanting this just as bad as him to be holding on so tight. He groaned, his head falling back on his shoulders as he stared up at the ceiling. “Yes, suck it, babe, suck me all the way in. This is how we belong.” 

He was almost disappointed when Hiccup’s muscles finally loosened enough for him to move but once they did he made it his mission to make them tighten again with orgasm. He moved slowly at first, rotating his hips to find that little bundle of nerves hidden inside his new lover. When that failed to excite more than a groan from Hiccup he tried faster but that failed as well. Dagur didn’t let that get him down. This was their first time and first times were always hard to find the right buttons. So he focused on his own pleasure, a need that had been denied for far too long. He rocked his hips into Hiccup’s and moan happily when he finally found his release and came balls deep inside him. He pumped every bit of seed into Hiccup until he was empty and his cock finally deflated after so long being hard and needy. 

Hiccup was still conscious beneath him, his eyes wide and filled with pain and shock, a never ending river of tears pooling on the table top. His manhood still hung limply between his legs.

“You’ll learn to enjoy it,” Dagur promised as he admired the cum and blood leaking from Hiccup torn ass. He patted Hiccup’s bad leg before pulling up and chair and sitting between Hiccup’s legs. “You’ll make the best consort the Archipelago has to offer by the time I’m done.” And, turning Hiccup carefully onto his back, he proceeded to show Hiccup some of the pleasure he could offer by greedily sucking his limp cock and forcing him to get hard and orgasm into his mouth until Hiccup was screaming for a new purpose.


	5. Chapter 5

A War Within 5

Stoick’s fingers flexed around the axe handle as he stared worriedly at Toothless. The dragon’s wing was torn to the point he couldn’t fly even if he had the help of a rider. There were broken ribs and one paw couldn’t take his complete weight. Some of the injuries would heal but that wing…there was nothing they could do for that wing. If he were a lame horse he would be put down rather than allowed to suffer. One blow to the back of the neck was all it would take. One blow and he would no longer feel any pain. Stoick fingers tightened around the hilt.

Greengage eyes met his and a small frightened wobble questioned him. Toothless knew what he was thinking, knew that he was now useless to him but he didn’t want to die. He wanted to find Hiccup and make those that took him pay as much as Stoick did.

“I’m sorry, Toothless, I don’t know how to help you,” Stoick whispered, his hand lovingly stroking the dragon’s rectangular head. But he couldn’t bring himself to swing the axe and head it all. He had grown to love Toothless as if he were part of his family, as if he was an extension of Hiccup and not just another dragon or pet. He dropped the axe, unable to do it. If Hiccup was home he would figure a way to help Toothless. He was smart and would think of something. He would patch the hole in the dragon’s wing with some thin leather and some form of adhesive that would probably mesh with the leather of Toothless’s wings and become permanent and… He had it! “Gobber!” he bellowed, jumping to his feet. “Gobber, fire up the forge!” They didn’t have much time but if anyone could track down Hiccup it would be Toothless and together they could heal each other from whatever Dagur was doing to his boy.

. . .

“Ngh…uh…”

The sounds of soft grunts could be heard throughout the ship but neither participant cared what the rest of the crew might think. They moved against each other, sweaty limps sliding over the other’s. Fingers dug into flesh, pulling and pushing. Their first joining had triggered a lust in Dagur he never felt before and he simply couldn’t get enough of Hiccup. They lay together on the bed, a mix of tangled limbs as he slowly thrust in and out of his lover. Hiccup was facing him this time and although his face was screwed up in slight pain – his back and chest was bound to hurt for quite some time – there was the telltale signs of beginning pleasure. Dagur had been working on him for nearly two days coaxing him to relax and just focus on that little bundle of nerves inside him. So far it wasn’t working as well as he had hoped but it still felt good to Dagur. 

He rolled his hips and leaned over Hiccup, bracing himself on his elbows so he could watch every twitch and pull of muscle that played over the youth’s face as Dagur moved inside him. It was like a game and if Hiccup gasped then he had hit something good. “There? You like it there?” he asked when Hiccup’s breath hitched. He did it a second time just to ensure he had hit the right spot and maybe awaken the Hooligan’s libido. “Don’t keep trying to fight it, baby. You’re body knows what you want better than your mind. Let it take control and the pain will go away.”

Hiccup’s hands balled up and he pressed them to his eyes. “No…” he breathed, still fighting.

Dagur rolled his eyes. “You’re being stubborn.” He rolled his hips and gave Hiccup’s prostrate a good hard jab making the younger gasp again. “If you’re trying to stay true to that pretty little blonde of yours forget about it. You and I both know she was only ever interested in you because of the power becoming chief would give you. She never cared about you, Hiccup. All she cared about was power. I cared about you. I always cared about you. Did she let you touch her like this? Did she once offer to give you head like I do?” He gently pulled one of Hiccup’s hands away from his face so their eyes could meet. “Look at you. You may be a little taller than me now but you still a weak little fishbone in need of protection. You could never be a powerful and fearsome chieftain but I don’t care about that, I never did. All I ever wanted was you just as you are. Now that I’ve made you mine she will never want to touch you. She’ll think you’re tainted. Is that love? Oh is me willing to give you all the pleasure in the world love?” He moved the hand from Hiccup’s face and smiled gently down at him. “I can be very gentle if you let me. I can give you everything in the world, jewels and dragons and protect you like you should be but I’m not afraid to punish you either and take great joy in your agony. Do we have understanding?”

Hiccup took a shuddered breath and looked away unable to answer. His eyes closed as Dagur went back to fucking him, hating the feel of the hard meat moving inside him. This was so wrong, so demeaning but Dagur was right; Astrid would never want him after this. She might pity him but would also look upon him with disgust just as the other riders and tribesmen would. And his father…his father would really disown him this time…if Hiccup was lucky. Or maybe he would lock him away as an embarrassment and strip him of all rights. He would never become chief and he didn’t even want to imagine what would happen to him when Snotlout became chief if he ever made it back to Berk. 

A garbled cry escaped him as Dagur paid particular attention to that little something inside him that sent jolts of electricity through him and had him arching at the foreign feeling. “Ngh…uh….ugh!” he whimpered, grasping Dagur’s shoulders for support.

“There we go. That’s right, rock with me. I knew you’d get into it. Take it all,” Dagur cooed, thrusting harder and faster. He calmed Hiccup’s lips in dominating kiss. “Uh…yes...”

Hiccup’s grip tightened on Dagur’s shoulders and a hoarse grunt passed his chapped lips as Dagur filled him again. Three times in the last two days he had been filled with Dagur seed yet he still felt no arousal except when his cock was sucked and he was forced to orgasm. And it wasn’t just once, Dagur milked him two or three times at a time, sucking his manhood while forcefully fingering his ass three knuckles deep. 

But this time Dagur did none of that. He slumped down behind Hiccup and threw an arm around the younger’s waist. “You came a little that time,” he said pleased with the outcome. 

Hiccup rolled away from him, disgusted by the very idea.

“Oh, don’t be so upset,” the Berserker teased, his lips brushing over the mop of auburn hair. “You need to forget about your friends and that silly dragon and start listening to your body.” He pressed his hand to Hiccup’s belly. “This is where you want me…so deep you feel me poking through your navel. That’s our sweet spot.”

The youth moaned softly, the feeling of being full hand having Dagur’s hand over his stomach oddly comforting. The Berserker snuggled against him, his warmth soothing against Hiccup’s back and the hand on his belly tracing soothing patterns over taunt skin. The gentle soothing touches and light kisses to his throat were almost enough to lull Hiccup into his first peaceful sleep since he was captured. 

Dagur no longer seemed so threatening. That violence that always surrounded him like an aura was not so much gone as it was under control. It was something every Berserker on the ship quickly released. Their chief was calm for the first since he was a child and talked to the crew with an ease that surprised many. There was no yelling or threats even when the Dragon Eye was recovered missing only a few disks. He didn’t cackle like a deranged maniac but chuckled and told Vorg to hide it on one of the other ships where Hiccup was unlikely to find it should he attempt another escape. He hummed and looked off toward the island of ice dreamily, his smile, a real smile growing the closer they got to it. He was like a new person and it was quickly agreed upon that Hiccup, regardless of his physical and mental state, was good for Dagur and anything good for Dagur was good for them. So they worked harder to get to the ice island and find him his Skrill and they obsessed over making sure Hiccup was well fed and injuries cared for. The former Hooligan heir was going to be with them for a very, very long time.

Not everyone was happy with the changes. Sure having Dagur happy and acting almost normal was good for moral but Hiccup had not suffered nearly enough in Savage’s opinion, and everyone should of an opportunity to enjoy the boy if only a little, but he never voiced his thoughts. Two men had already been thrown overboard for suggesting such a thing. An opportunity presented itself a few hours after the ship moored next to the ice island.

Dagur and Hiccup were asleep on the bed. Dagur’s right arm and leg were draped over Hiccup possessively, his face snuggled into the crook of Hiccup’s shoulder and jaw. They did look peaceful together compared their usual taunting and trying to one up one another.

“Sir,” he called to Dagur. He waited for the young chief to stir before continuing. “The men have located your Skrill.”

Nothing woke Dagur out of a deep quite as fast as work of his Skrill. He slowly untangled himself from Hiccup and sat up in bed. “Mmm…? Already? Where?” He rubbed one eye and gave a small yawn.

“Deep in a cavern just as he said,” Savage reported, nodding toward Hiccup’s limp and bruised form. “But it’s encased in solid ice.”

Moving with cat like grace, Dagur climbed over Hiccup and off the bed with jarring him awake. “Then take a team and go chip it free.”

“That will take weeks, sir. We don’t have enough supplies to last more than a few more days.”

“Then send some ships to the nearest trade route and get some,” Dagur snapped in annoyance. Did he to do everything himself? His annoyance only grew when Savage stood in the doorway without so much as making a move to follow his orders. The former Outcast was getting increasingly troublesome since Hiccup’s capture. “Are you deaf? Get out!” 

Savage’s gaze went from Dagur to Hiccup’s naked form sprawled out over the bed the only bit of clothing adoring him being the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. His gaze snapped forward at Dagur’s angry voice. “Aye, sir. I’ll send a pirating party to fetch supplies,” he said hurriedly, realizing he had been caught ogling his leader’s play thing, then turned on his heel and went back to the deck to carry out his orders.

With a dismissive shake of the head, Dagur looked back down at his supposedly sleeping bedmate. “You’ve never been that good an actor, brother. You have no need to be modest,” he chastised playfully as he carded his fingers through mused auburn locks that were tangled from sweat and hours of fucking. His hair looked worse than a bird’s nest. That wouldn’t do at all. Hiccup needed a bath and his hair brushed out. No consort or slave of Dagur the Deranged’s should look this disgraceful. It would simply not do. “When I return we’ll have a nice warm bath. You like baths right? Of course you do. You’ll sit on my lap while I wash you. We’ll have so much fun.”

Hiccup cringed and pressed his face against his pillow. No, that did not sound fun. It sounded as if his ass would take yet another beating while he was “cleaned”. Nothing could clean him now. Nothing could take away what Dagur had turned him into. He flinched as warm lips pressed against his temple.

“I won’t be long but while I gone I want you to eat something. I’ll have the cook make you some nice warm soup that way when I get back I can bury my cock in your nice warm body. How does that sound?” When Hiccup didn’t object or answer in any way Dagur took that as a resounding “yes” and grinned victoriously. 

Hiccup shifted on the bed and turned his head so he could watch Dagur. Every inch of his hurt but he still wanted to escape. The new problem he faced was the slave mark on his chest. Even if he could forget the sexual abuse inflicted on him there really was nowhere he could go. The moment anyone saw the slave mark they would know he belonged to Dagur and be captured and taken back to the Berserkers. And there was no doubt in his mind that Dagur wouldn’t put a heavy ransom on his head, demanding he be returned alive if only to torture him over and over again into submission before raping him until his insides bled out and….

He tried to push those horrid yet very plausible thoughts out of his mind and instead focused on Dagur’s backside. The older man was littered in scars as well, more than Hiccup thought possible. It was like looking into his future, what his back would look like once it healed. The crisscross of old lash marks rippling his skin like some deranged map maker of one of the big cities on the mainland with overlapping roads, streets and paths that conjoined in the center. A part of Hiccup wanted to reach out and run his fingers over it just to get an idea what his might one day feel like. These scars were something they now had in common and while it hurt and felt weird it was also a little calming in a twisted sort of way.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his mind having slipped once more and feeling slightly lost and disoriented again. He blinked rapidly for a moment as he tried remembering. Savage had just been there hadn’t he? Memory loss was becoming all too frequent of late and he wasn’t sure why but maybe it was a good thing.

Dagur was midway through doing up his breastplate but stopped and looked at him a little surprised before grinning. “Oh, oh! Did you take one too many whacks to the head? They found my Skrill and I’m going up to see her. You’re going to stay here and eat some soup and get all nice and warm so that I can warm up when I get back. It’s cold out there.”

Hiccup thought about that for a moment. Yep, that was what they talked about only a few minutes ago. So why wasn’t it sticking? “I’m not hungry,” he lied, his stomach rumbling from lack of food since his captivity. He’d only eaten a bit of bread and whatever sweet meat Dagur had hand fed him when he refused to eat and all he had to drink was a little water the rest was mead which kept messing with his head since he wasn’t a big alcohol drinker to begin with.

“Yes, you are,” Dagur said sternly as he grabbed Hiccup by the arms and forced him into one of the chairs at the table. “I don’t want you wasting away on me. You’re going to eat whatever is presented before you or I have another more fun way of giving you all your protein. Remember, I’ve been very kind to you so far. If you want me to get mean I will.”

Hiccup swallowed. If Dagur thought floggings, beatings, near drownings and repeated rapes was being nice Hiccup didn’t want to see what his version of mean was. He shifted uncomfortably – Dagur had shoved something into him after the last fuck session – and dug his nails into the palms of his hands to try and keep the trembling back then gave the tiniest of nods. “Alright…I’ll…I’ll eat.”

“That’s my boy!” Dagur chirped before diving in for a kiss. “I’ve got big plans for us, brother. You and I are going to rule the Archipelago!”

“Yeah,” Hiccup mumbled in agreement only to receive yet another unwanted kiss. He wanted until Dagur left and the door behind him slammed shut. He was alone for the first time in days and finally he could break down with anyone chastising him or threatening harm if he didn’t quiet down. He sobbed openly, his only thoughts on his friends and family, those he had let down by being so weak and unable to escape Dagur and his men early on. Shame, guilt and self-loathing filled him. He could never go back now. No one would love him now. He was tainted and marked and nothing more than a sex slave for Dagur to enjoy and abuse as he saw fit. Hiccup was nothing now but the mistake his people once saw him as. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he mumbled under his breath. “I’m sorry, Toothless. I’m so sorry, Astrid…I’ll never be the man you want or deserve…” His tears fell more steadily and he didn’t even notice when the cook brought him his food or felt the fur wrapped around his shoulders. He didn’t feel anything anymore except the crushing fact that his life as he knew it was over.

. . .

“Any luck?” Snotlout asked when he and the other riders regrouped on Dragon Island. They had been going out with the younger riders hoping to track down Dagur and Hiccup but so far each raid had been for nothing. They had tracked Berserker chips containing Hiccup’s scent all over the Archipelago and when they managed to break their way onto the ships – the younger riders offering cover fire for the elders. But other than some bloodied cloths hanging from the masts there was no sign of Hiccup anywhere and none of the Berserkers were talking nor will talk after their ships were sunk. Hiccup may believe in sparing his enemies lives but the others weren’t so willing when there was a very real possibility that their leader was lost to them, especially Astrid who took a sick pleasure burying her axe into the Berserkers who taunted that Hiccup was either or Dagur play thing by now. She displayed a rage and bloodlust only equal to Stoick and Snotlout was starting to fear for them both.

The Berserkers would have done well if they simply told them where Dagur had taken Hiccup. All the riders knew Dagur wouldn’t be stupid enough to take him back to his own island but just in case he was Tuffnut had gone undercover as Buffnut to check things out and came back empty handed.

“Harold hasn’t seen Dagur since he broke out of prison,” the male twin reported as he leaned forward on Belch’s head. 

“He’s lying,” Astrid growled, glaring at Tuffnut for believing such a thing.

“Nah uh. He doesn’t have a reason to lie. With Dagur off doing whatever Harold’s been leading the Berserkers. I don’t think he cares if Dagur ever returns.”

Astrid gave a snort, still not believing him.

“He did say to try north. If Dagur has Hiccup he’d be after the Skrill or something to that effect. He was kind of hard to understand with all the coughing and phlegm and such. I think he’s dying or something so I guess Dagur might not have any choice but to return soon and lead again.”

Everyone stared at him in astonishment.

“The Skrill?” Fishlegs asked.

“Yeah, we put it on ice in the northlands after Hiccup got it away from Dagur. Why?”

“Why didn’t either of you mention that before now!” Snotlout snapped at them. 

“Better question is why didn’t any of us take that under consideration before now,” Fishlegs interceded before Snotlout could leap of Hookfang and strangle the twins.

“Because none of us knew there was a chance it was still alive,” Astrid answered. She looked off toward the north. “We better get Stoick. He knows the northlands better than any of us.”

. . .

Savage waited a full hour after Dagur left the ship with the hunting party before making his move. The trek to the ice cave holding the Skrill captive was dangerous and filled with peril. One man had already fallen to his death and Savage secretly hoped Dagur would meet with the same fate. He waited until the young chieftain was out of sight before making his way down to Dagur’s chamber’s to “check” on Hiccup. The other men either didn’t care or were too occupied trying to keep warm around the hearth to comment on the issue. The northlands were frigid and the possibility of being attacked by a sea dragon far too common in these waters for them to worry about where one person went. Savage could be torn limb from limb by a Sea Dragonese Giganiticus and no one of them would worry or care as they rushed to save their own skin and quite frankly Savage wouldn’t give a damn if the same happened to one of them. He was an outside, an Outcast regardless if he was still a member of his tribe or not.

He strolled down the long corridor that served as a banquet hall and hold until he reached the large wooden door of Dagur’s chamber. He didn’t knock – it wasn’t as if Hiccup would answer it or open it for him – but opened it quickly not wanting to shock the boy if he were sleeping. Oh, if Hiccup was asleep he was in for one hel of a wakening. Savage’s cock throb with just the thought of entering Hiccup’s sweet little ass. He would do what Alvin refused and make Hiccup do his bidding. He’d take a taste of Hiccup now and then kill Dagur in his sleep and make the boy his. He was certain that if he presented Hiccup to Alvin that his former chief would welcome him back with open arms especially when Hiccup trained his dragons and gave him the army he always wanted. Yes, Alvin would forgive him and take him back and all would be forgiven as they enjoyed Hiccup together just as they planned to years ago.

Hiccup was not lying on the bed as Savage had hoped. He sat curled up on a chair looking blankly at an empty bowl with little dabs of cream smeared across one cheek where he must have tried whipping it from his lips. He didn’t look up when the door opened, fully expecting Dagur to return at any time so it was a bit of a shock for him to have Savage standing before him.

“Savage?” he asked, his voice small and timid but with the smallest hint of hope that maybe one of his tormentors had a change of heart and was going to free him.

The man frowned at the bowl of soup than at Hiccup. “You ate already,” he stated as if it was the rudest thing Hiccup could have down. When the boy nodded his frown on grew. “Are you still hungry?”

The boy shook his head “no”.

Savage had planned on feeding Hiccup his cock, make him suck it and swallow every bit of his seed but he knew from past experience that that didn’t always work out well when someone in Hiccup’s position had just finished their first meal in days. Oh well, he still had a nice – if not bruised – body to play with. “Get up on the table,” he ordered. He only had so much time before Dagur returned.

“What?” Hiccup asked confused then looked down at his amputation and then back at Savage as if he had lost his mind. “Why?”

A snarl gave from Savage and he grabbed Hiccup by the throat, hauling him off the chair and slamming him down on the table with such force the air was knocked out of Hiccup’s lungs and he was unable to cry out, not that he could have either way. Savage squeezed his throat to the point that Hiccup could barely utter a sound.

“When I tell you to do something you do it immediately, or hasn’t Dagur taught you that yet?” He growled low in Hiccup’s face, not wanting the men on deck to hear them. Dagur might love fucking the boy hard and loud but Savage couldn’t afford such rowdiness without possibly losing his life. He gazed down Hiccup’s nude body framed in the fur that had opened when he hit the table. He was a brute, one leg and all.

“Let go of me,” Hiccup wheezed, kicking out with his good leg. Instinct ruled him and he struggled, kicking and digging his nails into Savage’s wrist until the man backhanded him so hard he was seeing stars and his body went limp.

“Still a lot of fight in you,” Savage chuckled. “Dagur does love his whore with bite in them. Me? Not so much. Now you’re going to listen very carefully and do as I say or the next time I see that girlfriend of yours she’s going to be chained and warming my bed, understand? My cock’s going to fill her pussy and I’ll make you watch as she screams MY name. Savvy?”

Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut. Not again. Not another man raping him.

“And you’re going to stay quiet about this. No one needs to know what we’re doing but you and me,” Savage continued as he undid his breaches with one hand then gave his erect length a few hearty strokes. “You are real pretty like this, boy. All bare and battered. Your thighs are a nice shade of purple. What’s this?”

A waxy white rope was hanging from Hiccup’s ass with a small ring attached to the end. Savage gave a ruthless grin before looping one finger through the ring and pulling slowly. Hiccup bucked beneath him, his back arching as one by one the string of fat pearls were pulled out of him and plopped onto the table.

“I’ll give Dagur credit he knows how to take care of his toys. Did they feel good in you? Bush against your prostrate and make you want to cum each time you moved?” He chuckled lowly as he pulled Hiccup’s rear to the edge of the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll put them right back in when I’m done.”

Hiccup tried to struggle more, tried to kick in hopes of dislodging the large man but Savage pinned down his good leg, pushing it open and flush against the table and jarring the hip. Hiccup felt the tip push in and he immediately clenched down, trying to stop him. Savage used no lube and was not deterred in the slightest, the pearls having opened Hiccup wide and using his own juices to stay lubed. Hiccup begged for him to stop. It was bad enough to be turned into Dagur’s sex puppet but Savage’s too? This was beyond his wildest nightmare. Why was this happening to him? He knew the moment Savage was all the way in, the man eased up on his throat just enough for him to catch his breath and bent low to his ear.

“You are a little whore, aren’t you? You’re sweet little ass isn’t even clenching, it just accepted me in with no trouble. You like cocks up your ass like some little girl?” the man taunted.

“No…” Hiccup whimpered only to be chocked again as Savage pulled out and slammed into him again.

“What was that, I didn’t quite check it?” He let Hiccup catch his breath again.

“No…” the boy cried, fighting to gather some form of dignity.

Again Savage’s huge hand crushed his throat and again he pulled out and slammed into Hiccup. “Only little girly boys like having their asses filled with cock, Hiccup, and your ass is loving this. Don’t deny it. You’ve been waiting for someone to fuck you, haven’t you? I bet you love what Dagur’s been doing to you. You beg for it, don’t you? Of course a boy of your build must be passed around your tribe. Does your father whore you out? That would have ended the war against the Outcasts much quicker.”

Hiccup clawed at his wrist refusing to answer him. His father would never do that to him. 

“Maybe Dagur could make you more submissive if he simply took this,” Savage mused, grabbed at Hiccup limp cock and give it a few hard pulls. “It’s not as if you’ll have any use for it. What woman would want you after this?”

“Please…no…” Hiccup wheezed, nearly blacking out with the grip on his throat.

Savage gave it a painful twist and Hiccup thought for sure the man would rip it off. His back arched at the combined agony beset on his entire body.

“Now, be a good little fuck toy and tell how much you like this,” Savage crooned, leaving Hiccup’s still limps cock to crush his testicles in one meaty palm. “Tell me how much of a whore you are and all the naughty little ways you want to be fucked.”

His grip loosened but only enough for Hiccup to pant out those few vital words Savage wanted to hear ever since he first heard Hiccup’s screams while being fucked by Dagur. “I’m a whore,” Hiccup sobbed, one hand falling from Savage’s wrist at the damning sound of his own voice and repeating what Dagur had said to him earlier. “I like being fucked deep and hard.”

“That’s what I thought,” Savage purred before going back to choking Hiccup. Not hard or enough to kill him but enough to leave his mark as a reminder for the boy that sooner or later he was going to be passed around and fucked by every man on the ship and maybe the rest of the armada. Now he took his time pushing in and out, enjoying the way the boy’s muscles jumped and his breath shuddered with each hard thrust. This was well worth the wait.

. . .

The Skrill was exactly as Dagur remembered it and just as beautiful. He ran his figures over the ice encasing it as he smiled happily to himself. He had Hiccup and now his Skrill. All that was missing was that silly Nightfury and then his collection would be complete. Oh, he still intended on capturing Hiccup’s Nightfury and making it his, after all how was he supposed to learn to rider a dragon if his teacher did not have one to ride next to him with. Of course they could always share the Skrill but Dagur wasn’t exactly good at sharing his toys and he didn’t want Hiccup suffering for his selfishness.

“Set some flares around it,” he instructed the work crew presently chipping away at the ice. “Melt it out slowly otherwise the whole cavern will likely come down on your heads. Savage, I want…Savage?” He turned and looked back down the tunnel. “Where’s Savage?” he asked the nearest warrior that had accompanied him onto the island.

“On the ship, sir. You had him breaking up the ships to gather supplies from the Peaceables,” the man said, looking rather surprised that Dagur had forgotten already. He had been doing so good since Hiccup came along.

“He’s supposed to be here,” Dagur grumbled. Something was wrong. Savage had stayed by his side ever since the day Dagur took over the Outcasts but lately he had been acting more and more out of character, almost as if he was a different person. But why? What had changed? “Hiccup…” he breathed to himself before running and sliding out of the cave at full speed and rushing back to the ship. Savage had changed because of Hiccup’s capture. Dagur wasn’t sure of it but he was almost certain the former Outcast was after his prize.

. . . 

Hiccup could barely stay conscious. The hold around his neck had tightened the closer and closer Savage came to completion. Hiccup’s neither region was abused over and over again as Savage tried to make him hard, yanked and pulled on his length and squeezed his testicles to the point Hiccup was sure they no longer existed. But he couldn’t fight the man, he had no strength left. He could barely, barely see and all he felt was his body bouncing on the table as Savage called him horrible names. There were no tears left, no sense of self preservation. There was nothing he could do to save himself and the hold he kept on Savage’s wrist was the only thing keeping his mind from completely collapsing and putting him in a void so deep he would never find his way out. He could not get hard no matter how much Savage tried.

“What type of slut doesn’t get hard when they get what they want?” Savage spat at him, although it was clear Savage was good and hard as he rammed into Hiccup again and again.

Hiccup couldn’t answer, he didn’t know but he was quite certain no one in their right mind would be turned on by being raped.

“You’re a disgrace as Stoick’s heir and as Dagur’s whore,” Savage cursed, his movement becoming near animalistic as he took out his anger and hate on Hiccup’s broken body. He sudden froze deep inside of Hiccup, his eyes bulging in shock and pain.

Hiccup barely had the sense to look up when a long sword suddenly burst through the man’s chest sending a gush of blood spewing forward and splashing onto Hiccup’s face. Savage’s grip around Hiccup’s throat loosened but the boy was beyond words, his mouth working but no sound coming out.

“He belongs to me,” Dagur snarled behind Savage, one hand on his shoulder to keep him in place and inadvertently inside Hiccup as his body went through its death throws. If jerk about as Savage fought to stop the bleeding and keep leaving if only a little longer but a body knows when it’s going to die and it thrust into Hiccup as if trying to run though him and out to freedom. It was more painful than when Savage was living up to his name and raping Hiccup. It was more viral when it went so deep Hiccup was sure it would come out the other side of him and hot, stinking juices filled his inners, not just cum but the piss of a man who just emptied his bowels. When he was still, his eyes wide open and glazed with the pale white film of death, then did Dagur let him go to fall on Hiccup, his deflated length still buried deep inside.

“Tell me, brother, did you invite him in for a little roll on the table or did he force his way in you,” Dagur asked coolly as he whipped the blood off his long sword and eyed the beads on the floor.

“Dagur…” Hiccup cried, unable to believe Dagur would think such a thing of him. Did Dagur really think he would whore himself out after being raped? His chest heaved and he sobbed openly. He had a dead man lying on his with his cock shoved way up his ass still twitching as the body cooled. He had been used as nothing but piece of meat to be beaten and fucked and tortured and being told over and over again that he wanted it, that he liked it. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was better off dead. Or maybe they were right and somewhere deep in his subconscious he did want this, he did like this. But that wasn’t possible. He hated every minute of it. He wanted to go home. He wanted Toothless. He wanted Astrid. He wanted his Dad.

The heavy body was finally shoved off of him and Hiccup rolled to the ground, crying and vomiting until there was nothing left in his stomach and a rancid taste left in his mouth. He dry heaved for another minute until he was swept up into Dagur’s arms and against his warm bare chest. Bare chest? Dagur had stripped while he cried his heart out. Hot bruising lips pressed into Hiccup, licking at the splatter of blood as if it were a delicious treat. One hand cupped Hiccup’s ass and lifted him off the table and onto Dagur’s hard length. Hiccup gave a cry of a mix of pain, shame and the sheer audacity that Dagur would enter him after the filth Savage had pumped in his body in those last moments of life. If he wasn’t tainted before he certainly was now. He could feel Savage’s essence rolling around in his belly and squishing out with every thrust Dagur gave him. Nonetheless he clung to the Berserker chief, needing to clung to something after what happened, needing the sense of protection Dagur gave off as he whispered assurances and promises to never let anyone touch him like that again.

“He’s gone now. He’ll never hurt you again. It’s just you and me, brother, just as it was always meant to be,” Dagur whispered in his ear as he pressed Hiccup against the wall and peppered his face in kisses. “Just you and me…no one is ever going to touch you again.”

And strangely enough Hiccup believed him. He clung to Dagur tighter and for the first time moved with him and timidly returned the kisses. Even though their movements were frantic and demanding, Dagur stayed gentle and kept talking, kept assuring Hiccup he wasn’t a whore and that he was loved and cherished and would always be protected now that they were one. And soon Hiccup found himself hardening of his own accord, Savage’s abuse not doing as much damage as he feared. When he came it was all over Dagur’s taunt abs and the Berserker showed his appreciation by showering him in cum as well before licking him clean.

Hiccup was all cried out by the time they were done and lying together in a quivering mess on the bed. Dagur stroked his arm absently as some of his men gathered Savage’s body. “Take him to my Skrill. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up and the cold will keep him fresh for her,” he ordered, this time making sure Hiccup’s nude form was hidden peering eyes. He was not taking a chance of any of his other men betraying him to get a taste of his Hiccup.

Once Savage was gone a tube was filled with hot water and Dagur kept his promise to bathe Hiccup and himself but there were no more shenanigans. Dagur simply sat in the tube with him and washed every inch of Hiccup’s body and after who knows how many days Hiccup had been held captive it was good to finally be clean again and no longer covered in Savage’s blood.


	6. Chapter 6

A War Within 6

Thawing a frozen dragon was a difficult task. It had to be down slowly with a mix of hammers chipping at ice. The Berserkers were enthusiastic at first, more than happy to give their leader what he had desired since childhood but when Savage’s body was suddenly dumped before the block of ice all they wanted was to free the dragon and get the hell out of there before it awoke and decided to eat them too. They were almost there. The ice was dripping and long talons were beginning to twitch. It wouldn’t be long now.

Dagur monitored his men’s progress but after Savage’s assault on Hiccup he was reluctant to leave his lover alone for more than a few minutes. Hiccup was in worse condition than before. He was in shock and sat in the corner of the bed, pressed against the wall, head bow and sullen. He didn’t look up anymore and hid under the crisp white polar bear pelt Dagur had found in one of Johann’s treasure chests months ago. Now that Hiccup was cleaned and hair brushed he looked like a reluctant bride on his wedding day, no longer a virgin but equally beautiful. He no longer protested when Dagur slipped behind him and simply held him for a few hours as they gaze out the stern window at the icy waters that reached out for endless miles beyond the ship. Dagur’s large fingers caressed Hiccup’s arms where they stuck out of the fur as he hummed to himself. 

The usually talkative Hiccup was now silent as if he had lost his voice after the last ordeal. He often fingered the slave mark on his chest and Dagur had to keep moving his hand away from it to ensure he didn’t make the burn worse.

“Don’t,” he whispered in Hiccup’s ear. “It can’t be removed. You belong to me and only me. And you know it in. You’ve always known that.” He gently tugged Hiccup’s head back until it rested on his shoulder.

Hiccup sighed softly and closed his eyes, visibly worn and so bone achingly exhausted he could no longer think. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to die but Dagur would never allow that. The Berserker wouldn’t even leave him long enough with a knife. Hiccup had already tried slicing his wrists twice only to have Dagur find him and the healer stitch him up and wrap the new wounds. Now, Dagur, who loved his beloved knives almost as much as his Skrill, had removed every blade and weapon from his chambers. He had stored them somewhere in the hold where a guard watched over them to keep Hiccup away from them if he somehow made it that far. The Berserkers had made the mistake of underestimating just how far Hiccup could get with only one leg when he put his mind to it. He couldn’t be left alone anymore. With the option of suicide off the table Hiccup had pretty much given up. It didn’t matter how much he fought Dagur always got what he wanted and now even Hiccup’s body was betraying him and growing aroused by the simplest touches. His body was over sensitive and the simplest stimulation had him unravelled.

“It’s alright to like,” Dagur breathed against his ear as he slowly stroked Hiccup’s twitching cock. “I like it when you get hard it shows me I’m doing the right thing.” He chuckle lowly. “Think of it as bonding time. I’m not going to fuck you I just want you to get hard for me. Feel that? The way your stomach tightens the more I touch you. That’s good, that’s what you want. Cum for me, babe. Come on, you know you want to. There we go, let me hear you.”

Hiccup closed his eyes trying to fight it but his body was no longer his own. He arched into Dagur and came hard, ropes of cum splattering over his belly and Dagur’s hand but he didn’t scream only gave a pathetic whimper as he pressed his forehead against Dagur’s jaw, that patchy beard scratching his sweaty flesh.

Dagur clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Not bad but I like your screams better than whimpers. We’ll work on that.” He licked his fingers clean before he brushed aside Hiccup hair and kissed his forehead. “Don’t fret over it. Sex slaves take a long time to break in and we’ve only been together a few days. By the time we return to Berserk you’ll be an expert.”

Hiccup did his best to ignore him and went back to picking at the burn on his chest. But just as before Dagur caught his hand and pulled it away. They sat like that for a long time and Hiccup had begun to dose off when the first explosion occurred. It jarred both young men awake, Dagur having fallen asleep with Hiccup in his arms. The screams of Berserkers could be heard all the way in the cabin.

“My Skrill!” Dagur said delightfully. He gently slipped out from behind Hiccup and wrapped the fur securely around him to keep him warm and modest should some idiot come down to check on him. “Stay here and get some rest. I won’t be long.”

Another blast rocked the ship. Dagur gave a yip of cheer and hurried off to great his Skrill but Hiccup wasn’t so sure. That last blast sounded awfully familiar. He knew he that sound but his mind blanked out and he got were fuzzy images that didn’t make sense at first until he heard an all too familiar dragon cry.

“TOOTHLESS!” he screamed in sudden realization. It felt like forever but hope suddenly returned and hot on its heels shame and frustration. Here he was naked, bruised top to bottom with yellowish purple blotches and marked as Dagur’s slave, his honor stripped from him and any chance of ever being Berk’s chief when his father resigned taken away. Even if he was saved he was no better off. He was lost and confused didn’t know what do to. 

Toothless must have heard him. The attacks grew as did the screams of Berserkers. There was the roar of other dragons and battle cries so familiar that Hiccup nearly cried. His father’s unmistakeable bellows could be heard over all the chaos, enraged and filled with bloodlust, a sound Hiccup recognized from the days when dragons were once their enemies. Hiccup shook his head and coward back. Days ago he would have wept to see his father but now, after all that had happened, he couldn’t bear to show his face. 

This wasn’t happening.

The ship tilted dangerously to port knocking Hiccup off the bed and tumbling across the floor. He gave a cry and threw his arms over his head as items not anchored down fell on him jarring his injuries. 

This couldn’t get any worse.

The door suddenly opened and slammed against the wall. “Hiccup!”

Things just got worse.

Snotlout was looking around the room frantically, Gustav looking over his shoulder. Oh sweet Odin, not Gustav. The kid was too young as it was to understand any of this. What was he doing in the middle of a battle with Snotlout and Stoick? What was any of them doing there? Who fly Toothless? Hiccup’s mind was racing. He couldn’t form words, the only one coming to his lips being his beloved dragon. He whimpered softly hating how weak he felt and the fact that it was his judgement cousin how had to find him and would torment him about this for years to come just like he did about his missing leg and scrawny arms. The one how called him Outpost Princess and Useless and…

Their eyes met and a strange look passed over Snotlout’s eyes. “Gustav, find Stoick and be careful,” Snotlout ordered before entering the room further. 

Gustav gave Hiccup big frightened eyes before rushing off.

“Snotlout, no…” Hiccup whimpered as he pressed himself against the wall, fearful of the look in his cousin’s sapphire gaze. “Please…tell them I died. Tell them whatever you want just don’t…”

Snotlout stopped in his tracks, utterly confused as he stared down at Hiccup trying to crawl away from him as if he were some sort of monster. “Hiccup, it’s me…it’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.” But he didn’t move any closer, his gaze falling on the bare foot sticking out of the fur and desperately pushing at the wood floor to get away. “Hiccup, snap out of it.”

Astrid was the next to run into the room. “Gustav said Hiccup wasn’t in the brig. Where is he?” she demanded before stumbling to a stop and just managing not to fall on her own battle axe. “Hiccup?” she breathed, her face going pale. “Oh Gods…”

It took a few minutes for Snotlout to get his wits about him. “Okay…his metal leg has to be here somewhere.” The boat rocked. “Forget that. Stoick’s going to sink this ship if we don’t get Hiccup out of here soon. You take one arm, I’ll grab the other, and together we should be able to get him to Skullcrusher.”

Hiccup scrambled back along the wall. This was a dream, they weren’t really here. “No…no, stop. Tell Dad I died and sink the ship,” he pleaded. If this was real he couldn’t go back to Berk. He couldn’t go back to the life he used to have. There was nothing worth saving left in him.

“Hiccup, calm down,” Astrid said soothingly as she knelt in front of him. She looked nearly in tears as she slowly approached him. “It’s okay, it’s me. It’s me, Hiccup.” She sniffled a little but very gently touched Hiccup’s foot, letting him adjust to her touch a little at a time. She inhaled sharply when he jerked away from her. “Oh, baby, it’s okay, it’s me. I’m right he, Hiccup. I want to take you home. We’ll go back to Berk or the Edge, wherever you want to go.”

Hiccup only shook his head. He couldn’t go back. It didn’t matter where he went he was tainted now.

“I hate to hurry this up but we’ve got to go,” Snotlout urged. Not one known for his patience, he grabbed Hiccup’s left arm and hauled him to his feet. “Sorry, Hic, but it’s time to go. You can explain everything later.” Not that it needed much explaining, the fact he was wearing nothing but a fur robe pointed to the obvious. Snotlout pushed that to the back of his mind and focused on the issue of saving his cousin. This was not one of those subjects he could poke fun at.

Their young leader fought them at first but he was weakened by his time in captivity and his mind was unsettled with all that had happened to him. He struggled only for a few moments before his body gave out and he hung between them.

“Okay, one step at a time. Hiccup, you’ve got to move with us. I don’t want to have to drag you,” Snotlout explained, trying to keep his voice gentle and upbeat. 

“Here we go,” Astrid said gently, one arm around Hiccup’s waist the other holding his arm over her shoulders. She took a deep shudder breath, gave him a gentle squeeze and then started forward. Everything was going just find until their way was blocked. “Oh shit.”

A sorrowful moan escaped Hiccup and he tried pulling away from his friends but they only held him tighter. “Dagur…” he whispered.

“What do you think you’re doing with my property?” Dagur demanded, his long board sword clenched tightly in one hand. The rocking of the ship didn’t seem to bother him as much as it did the riders who staggered back trying to come up with a new plan. “Hand him over and I might spare your miserable lives.”

“Astrid, can you hold him?” Snotlout asked as he reached behind his back for his mace.

“I’ve got him,” she assured, tightening her grip around Hiccup waist in preparation to take on his full weight. Hiccup was never very heavy to begin with but now he felt like a rag doll, his lanky limps the only troublesome part of him since he was so tall. She took another step back as Snotlout let go of Hiccup and brought up his axe to attack Dagur. She waited for an opening, hoping that Snotlout could lure Dagur away from the door so she could get Hiccup out. This would be a perfect time for Stoick or Gobber to lend a hand but they were too busy up top leading the new riders against Dagur’s men. “Hold, Hiccup, hold on,” she continued to whisper, feeling him falter against her side as if he might fall.

Snotlout was struggling. He was a good warrior but he had never fought someone like Dagur who delighted in his enemy’s pain and laughed manically when he landed a blow. He knocked the mace out of Snotlout’s hands and kicked him to the ground. He raised his hand to land the killing blow but was stopped when an axe whooshed past his head and embedded in the wall. He turned away from Snotlout to look at Astrid with one raised brow.

“Oh oh, I forgot you had bite,” he laughed as he twirled his sword with one hand. “Now why don’t you be a good little girl and but him down on the bed. It’s where he belongs.”

“He belongs with his own kind,” she argued, carefully stepping back as Dagur approached them. “With people who love him.”

“With people who use him, who tells him he’s no good unless he has a dragon under his command. Are those the people you want to return to, brother?” Dagur turned his focus to Hiccup, his voice a gentle purr. “With people like her who will turn you away just because you love me?”

“Hiccup?” Astrid questioned, glancing sideways at him.

Dagur gave a cruel grin. “He doesn’t want to go with you, Astrid. He’s not a child anymore to be seduced by sweet smiles and childish pecks on the cheek. He’s mine. He likes riding my cock so much better than some dumb Nightfury.”

She set her jaw and pulled Hiccup closer to her. “Stay back.”

“Or what? Your axe is over there and your hero…” He glanced at Snotlout who was fighting to get his footing back. “Is a zero. Face it, Astrid, you lost.”

He raised his sword and thrust toward her chest but things suddenly happened so fast that no one had a chance to stop what happened next. It was as if life came back to Hiccup. His eyes widened with a fear so feral that it claimed every inch of his soul. Regardless of having only one leg and no prosthetic to help his balance he let go of Astrid and threw himself at the oncoming blade. It went through his belly and burst out his back in a splash of blood, just missing Astrid.

Silence reigned over the cabin and seemed even the roars of dragons and explosive fire was muted out was Hiccup hung from the sword, his hands clasped around Dagur’s wrist.

“Hiccup!” Astrid cried, staring in disbelief at the sword gutting out his back. “Oh Gods! Oh my Gods!”

Dagur was in just as much shock and he feared to pull the sword loose in case Hiccup bled to death. “Hiccup…” he breathed in disbelief.

A small laugh escaped Hiccup as he looked up to meet Dagur’s horrified gaze. “You lost,” he announced with deranged glee. “I win.” He pushed off the blade and into Astrid’s ready arms.

“Hiccup, Hiccup, no…what have you done,” Astrid pleaded as she knelt on the floor with him.

He gave a chocked laugh and smiled up at her. “Getting back some of my honor.”

“You stupid idiot. Toothless! TOOTHLESS!” she screamed knowing the dragon was within hearing distance. “Hold on, Hiccup, please just hold on.”

Dagur tried taking him from her but she refused to let go and he was stuck sitting there, lost and confused and staring at the rapidly growing puddle of warm, sticky blood. “No…” he breathed before placing his large hand over Hiccup’s stomach in a futile effort to starch the bleeding. His hands began shaking. It was like his father dying all over again when he lost his temper and struck out. “No, no, no, no…” he mumbled to himself, his hands now covered in Hiccup’s blood.

Hiccup’s eyes kept fluttering close and breaths strained and wheezing but he had the smallest of smiles. He had just won a great victory. He no longer feared death but embraced it. His smile only grew when an all too familiar and comforting roar filled the cabin and the pounding of large paws. “Toothless…” he whispered without looking up. He didn’t need to. He felt Toothless near him, knew by the tap of his claws against wood, familiar with the sound crossing his bedroom floor at night. He raised a hand to touch his best friend’s head. “Hey bud…”

But Toothless didn’t go to him. The Nightfury saw the blood, smelt appending death in the air and mewed in sorrow.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Dagur mumbled, his hands shaking and sword discarded.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. Toothless had never liked the Berserker chief but now he out right hated him. Dragons had a long memory and this assault on his rider, best friend, brother and soulmate would not be forgotten or forgiven. A rage filled Toothless that he never felt for another creature before, not even Alvin the Treacherous when he held him and Hiccup captive. Dragons only killed humans to defend themselves or those they loved and Toothless loved Hiccup like no dragon had loved a human before or after. He inhaled deeply, triggering the hydrogen glands deep in his throat while making a rumbling growl in warning.

Dagur immediately sense something was not right. He looked to Toothless thinking the dragon was in mourning but instantly realized the Nightfury had gone feral and was inhaling large amounts of air to create a powerful plasma blast. “No! No, no, no…accident! That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He went to stand but Hiccup’s hand knotted in his tunic and forced him to stay still. All Dagur had a chance to do was look down on last time at Hiccup as Snotlout screamed out a warning and threw himself over Hiccup and Astrid. The Dagur’s world erupted into blinding purple, indescribable heat and such pain he couldn’t even scream to. The plasma blast was point blank and torn the Berserkers to shreds, blasting through him and straight threw the side of the ship. There was nothing left but a few scattered body parts, blood and gore that splattered all over the riders.

The ship listed terribly with the blast and many of those on deck were sent overboard into the frigid north waters. Dragons rushed to save their riders while killing off any Berserker fool enough to try and re-board the doomed vessel. Stoick caught himself on the wall as he followed young Gustav to the captain’s quarters. He had never heard such an explosion and it sent chills down his spine when it was followed by Toothless’s mournful cry.

“Hiccup,” he breathed, thankful that the Nightfury had found Hiccup but fearing the worse. His son should have been in the brig as a prison of war, a valuable tool that could have been used to negotiate Berk’s surrounded. But Dagur wasn’t like most chieftains. His feud with Hiccup was personal not political. It was dark and twisted and very sexual and… Stoick had a very bad feeling.

The door to the cabin was blown wide open with burned scorch marks in the wood. Furniture was askew but what took Stoick’s breath away. Half the room was covered in blood and gore. A foot detached from its body lay close to the three huddled figures in one corner. Toothless was crouched close to the blast hole panting uncontrollably with smoke spewing from his mouth and a look in his eyes that Stoick had not seen since they once battled each other in the dragon killing ring. He looked feral and untamed, an animal in every form of the word. 

Stoick fought the urge to go to him and instead went to where Snotlout was bent over Astrid and Hiccup the armor on his back metal away and flesh burnt. He panted and fought to control the pain as he met his chief’s gaze. “Stoick,” he whispered, his voice choked with pain and emotion.

When he sat up he revealed Astrid cradling Hiccup’s battered body, all three covered in blood and gore but it wasn’t all from whoever was blown to Helheim. Hiccup’s middle was soaked in blood and there was a huge puddle growing beneath him. Astrid’s hands were soaked and big fat tears were rolling down her cheeks. Taking a deep shuddered breath, Stoick knelt next to Snotlout and took his son from Astrid’s arms. The boy was still alive but just barely.

“Hi Dad,” Hiccup said as if it was just any other day and he wasn’t dying in his father’s arms.

“Hiccup…son…” Stoick returned as he moved the furs to take a good look at the damage. His breath hitched at the sight of bare skin stained red and the blackened skin bearing the Berserker chest. “I’m so sorry. I should have been here sooner.”

The boy only chuckled softly. “Dagur tricked us all but I wouldn’t let him win. He lost his prize then Toothless took his life. Is it wrong that I’m happy about that?”

Stoick cuddled him against his chest, not caring of the blood staining his clothing. He tried stopping the bleeding to his son’s stomach but more spilled from his back. “No, son…no, it’s not wrong,” he assured, sitting back with his boy. “It’s not wrong at all.

Hiccup snuggled against his chest. “I missed you, Dad. I’m sorry I’m such a disgrace.”

Considering Hiccup’s condition Stoick was able to figure out what he was talking about almost immediately. “You’re not a disgrace, son. None of this was your fault.”

The boy didn’t seem so certain. “I’m tired,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

Tears spilled down Stoick’s cheeks as he felt Hiccup’s heart flutter and begin to slow. “Then go to sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Hiccup gave one last wheezy breath before he breathed his last and his body went limp in his father’s arms. Stoick held him tightly and wept, his son’s blood covering him and the remains of Dagur the Deranged soaking his trousers. Astrid leaned against him, crying openly as Snotlout watched with tears flowing freely down his face. Toothless sniffed his brother and best friend then howled in anguish. His cry was echoed by all dragons near and far for a great friend to their kind was now lost to them, a friend, a brother, a dragon soul contain in a fragile human body.


	7. Chapter 7

A War Within 7

Life moves on. People die and fade into history but some, some are never forgotten. What happened that day on Dagur’s flag ship, in the captain’s quarters all covered in blood and gore would forever be burned into the minds of Stoick, Toothless, Astrid and Snotlout. The ship was sinking and there was little time to truly mourn. They went into automatic, gathering Hiccup’s body and hurrying to the deck. For no rhythm or reason Astrid took all the clean linen and pressed it to Hiccup’s stomach and back, starching the bleeding as best she could and refusing to give up even though Stoick verified he had passed on to Valhalla. 

There was no reason not to believe him, Hiccup’s body was cooling rapidly in the great northern temperature and he hadn’t moved even the slightest. He was a bleeding, broken rag doll that was bundled up and tied to the front of Skullcrusher’s saddle where his father could watch over his body and ensure it was returned to in one piece to Berk where a proper hero memorial could be held. He was a man crushed. He had lost his wife and now his son. His world was gone and he stared blankly into the distance allowing his Rumblehorn to take complete control. His hand rested on the fur covering his son’s back, his thoughts on all the things he might have done to prevent this from happening, how maybe he should have made Hiccup stay a Berk rather than chasing a silly dream presented by the Dragon Eye. But he knew that nothing could keep Hiccup from adventure and new discoveries. Dragons were Hiccup’s life.

When they reach Berk it was utter chaos. The sight of their heir’s broken and battered body brought outrage to the people and they demanded blood and armed themselves for war. The life of a future chieftain was a grave insult to Vikings and total destruction of the tribe at fault was the least they could demand. It took every ounce of Stoick’s exhausted strength to get them under control and avoid all out war with the Berserkers. Dagur was dead, his remains scattered about the northern sea and picked apart by fish and sea dragons just as every man who served under him. The Berserker tribe still on their island had nothing to do with what happened, had not even had contact with their young chief in over three years and now had to find a new chief and there was only one heir fit to take that roll, Heather. 

Hiccup’s body was taken home and laid on his bed to be cleaned. The riders were sent to their homes to prepare for Hiccup’s final farewell. Astrid stayed to comfort Toothless as Gobber helped Stoick wash Hiccup’s body. His pale freckled body told the story of what he suffered more than words could ever tell. Bruises, faded and fresh littered his lithe form. The slave mark stood out like a slap in the face for Stoick. To have his son, his only child stripped of every and turned into a slave, a sex slave no less, was the type of thing that made men commit suicide and according to Astrid that was just what Hiccup did. He saved Astrid by giving his life for hers and regain some of his honor. It was a noble act and judging by his bandaged wrists not the first time he tried to end his life, only this time he was successful. He had died for those he loved.

The one good thing about the cold of the north was that the bleeding had slowed. Stoick had first thought the Hiccup had simply bled all out and there was nothing left but what was on the fur, or that with his heart no longer beating the blood had stopped pumping out, his mind not connecting the cold’s effect on a person’s body. He cleaned his son’s body, humming softly the song his beloved Valka used to sing with him and had turned into a lullaby when Hiccup was a babe. 

Gobber silently stitched Hiccup’s stomach. It they were on the battle field the boy would have been placed on an empty ship and sent to Valhalla in a blaze of glory. In war there was little time to mourn the dead properly but with the danger of Dagur gone and given Hiccup’s station they had time to treat his body properly. He said nothing to Stoick, no comforting words or advice, his chief was in no shape to hear any of it, he simply gave directions and helped him rolled Hiccup onto his belly so he could close the opening in his back. A string of large pearls were removed from his body, causing both men to give a curse and Astrid to inhaled deeply, not one of them expecting to find such a thing deep inside his anal channel, the little string the only clue to there being something amidst. The bloody fur was discarded and buckets of bloody water were changed a number of times before the body before them even resembled the Hiccup they knew and loved.

“That’s all we can do,” Gobber announced, sitting back on his stool. “I’m so sorry, Stoick.” He reached forward again and gave his best friend a one armed hug. Tears dotted his eyes but held them in check. He loved Hiccup like his own son, the son he always wanted and was blessed to share with Stoick, but he was Stoick’s child and he deserved more than anyone else time alone with the body to grieve. “We’ll leave you be for a few hours. Did you want me to prep the Hopeful Puffin for him or one a ship from the fleet? I can change the sails.”

“I…I don’t know,” Stoick confessed. He had not allowed himself even a moment to think of his son’s funeral. “Take the sail from the Puffin, it’s too small to fit him now. I…have Fishlegs help you.”

“Aye,” Gobber agreed, patting his shoulder as he stood. “Take your, Stoick. I’ll be back shortly. Astrid.” He nodded his head toward the stairs but the girl refused to leave Toothless. Both the girl and the dragon were so distraught that they happen left the body since Hiccup was found. He sighed and left them. He doubted they would be any problem for Stoick.

Toothless left Astrid to take up Gobber’s spot and laid his big head over Hiccup’s stomach and chest, careful of the injuries and gave a pitiful whine.

“No…bad dragon, get off of him,” Stoick snapped but his momentary anger gave way at the sadness in Toothless’s eyes. He had never seen such a look on the dragon before, as if he had given up everything and just wanted it over with. He wanted to be wherever his Hiccup was. Stoick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He just lost his son he couldn’t lose Toothless, too. He was all Stoick had left of Hiccup.

A strange thing happened then. Toothless began to flop his head from one side to the other as if he had an itch and was trying to rid himself of it by rubbing again Hiccup. He began bleating and cooing, bumping his head against Hiccup’s. He climbed higher on the bed, pressing more of his body against his riders and wobbling desperately.

“Down! Get down now!” Stoick yelled hurrying around the bed to drag the dragon off his son’s body. “Toothless, stop it! Enough!”

Miracles do happen. When Toothless placed his head on Hiccup’s chest he felt the faintest of thumbs, barely enough to register as life. Long seconds ticked by but then there was another and soon another. It was so soft, so slow that no human could possibly detect it but it was a natural occurrence for dragons when they were severely injured or going into hibernation. It was a way to let the body heal without putting stress on it. He fought Stoick, pinning the large man to the ground and roaring in his face, desperately trying to tell him what was going on.

“Toothless, stop!” Astrid cried, jumping on his back and trying to get him off Stoick without hurting either of them. She was thrown off and landed hard against the trunk at the end of Hiccup’s bed.

Stoick growled in anger. “He may have been your friend, dragon, but he was MY son!” he snarled, shoving Toothless back but the Nightfury bared down on him wobbling and bleating and trying to talk but making no sense. Stoick didn’t understand Dragonese and for all he knew Toothless had lost his mind with grief.

Astrid shakily got to her feet and instinctively turned to check on Hiccup to make sure his body hadn’t been disturbed. She blinked, her eyes seeming to play tricks for a moment. Then she stared harder. She did not a chest rise and fall, he was still as the dead but she did see something, one finger, his pinky to be exact, curled ever so slightly that had she not been staring directly at it at just that moment. 

“Hiccup…” she breathed, sure she was seeing things. That same finger slowly uncurled then did it again. “Stoick…Stoick! Toothless, back down…he’s alive,” she whispered the last in disbelief, watching with wide eyes and praying to see his chest rise.

Toothless instantly jumped off Stoick with a satisfied bleat as if to say “I told you so” and pranced toward his rider in hopes of seeing bright green eyes open and smile up at him.

Stoick struggled to his feet, certain that Astrid was just being hopeful and that Toothless’s movements had simply jostled his son’s body. He stood at the foot of the bed but saw nothing, no movement, no rise and fall of a thin chest, nothing to signify life. Still, a sudden hope filled him and maybe it was the wistful thinking of a grieving parent willing to give up everything in the world to have their child back but at that moment he was willing to hold on to that hope. “There’s a mirror on the shelf over his desk, get it for me,” he instructed as he moved to kneel next to his son’s head.

Astrid quickly found the mirror and brought it to him.

It was a trick, one that his father taught him long ago. He took some of the bedding hanging over the edge and wiped away the dust, cleaning it until it gleamed and then very tentatively held it under Hiccup’s nose. At first nothing happened, nothing at all and Stoick began to think they had all lost their minds with grief but then…then something magical happened. Maybe it was the will of the Gods, perhaps Hiccup had a destiny still unfulfilled but slowly a small mist began to form on the polished glass. It faded as slowly as it came and then a minute later happened again and then again. It was very slow, the breaths so shallow that they were not heard but were there all the same.

“He’s alive!” Stoick gasped in astonishment. He blinked back tears as he got to his feet. “He’s alive!” he cried as he grasped Astrid by the arms and lifted her in the air in happiness. “He’s alive!” he screamed, hugging Toothless in full forgiveness. He left the two and ran out of his hut screaming at the top of his lungs for all to hear. “HE’S ALIVE!!!”

Healing takes a long time. Hiccup was in a coma for three months. Gothi tended to him every day, smearing healing creams over his body and praying to the gods over his still body. Within a week his breathing returned to normal and a rattling in his chest alerting her to factures in his ribs that were not healing properly and had to be broken once more and mending correctly. In two weeks his heartbeat returned to a steady pace and could be felt and heard by man and dragon alike. In three weeks the bruises that littered his body become mere discolorations. Miraculously there was no major internal damage when Dagur’s sword went through his stomach, no arteries opened or organs destroyed. He had scars, he would always have scars. His back was the worse, a map of pain and anguish that would live with him forever. The marks on his wrists would be a reminded of his moment of weakness and the long scar of the through and through impaling of a broad sword the reminder of how he willing gave his life to save the woman he loved. They were the marks of a seasoned warrior, a survivor and proof of a strong spirit.

It would be three months before he awoke, before he realized he was home but nothing would be the same. The full extent of what happened to him was kept secret from the tribe. All anyone knew, including most of the riders, was that he was tortured and forced to help Dagur retrieve his Skrill, a dragon that was now roaming the Archipelago free. Only a few knew of the slave mark that still burned his chest to this day, a searing pain that would never go away and remind Hiccup of the shame of his rape and remind him always that despite the fact Dagur was now long dead he still belonged to him. He was and always would be his slave. Only his father, Gobber, Gothi, Astrid and Snotlout knew of it and each were sworn to secrecy. If anyone knew any chance of Hiccup becoming chief and being respected by the other tribes would be taken from him and he could be sent to Berserk or worse the Ugli-thug slave lands. Surprisingly, Snotlout never brought it up but was now being groomed as the new heir, Hiccup no longer wanting the honor and telling his father as much a few days after waking up.

It was now six months since the day he died. As far of Hiccup was concerned he had died on that ship. Every part of him that was important to him was gone. He shied away from his friends and family alike, barely speaking unless necessary and fleeing when people came to close. He didn’t like to be touched and flinched when people spoke loudly or invaded his personal space. At night nightmares invaded his sleep, memories of his beatings, the pain returning in waves that made him cry out in agony but they were nothing compared to the memories of being raped, of being filled by Dagur and forced to cum by hand and mouth or even more frightening the sensation of being chocked while Savage took his revenge on him, pounding into him even after Dagur run him through, his dying body filling him with seed and piss, a feeling Hiccup would never be able to forget and made him scream in the dead of night. 

No one could comfort him. His father would rush to his bed to sooth him but even the simplest touch would set Hiccup off in an even worse bout of night terrors, making him scramble away from what was supposed to be a comforting touch and beg to not be hurt again, promising to do what he was told if he could was shown just a little mercy. He was broken and no one could fix him. Stoick’s heart was crushed at his inability to comfort let alone protect his own son.

His friends tried to get him back into a normal routine, reminding him of dragon races and asking if he wanted to get away from Berk and go back to his little hut on Dragon’s Edge to get away from all the worried looks the tribe was sending him. But Hiccup declined, preferring to Toothless’s company above all others. Toothless didn’t constantly ask him if he was okay or tell him it was time to move on and get over it. No one understood what he was going through so where did they get the right to tell him how to feel or what to do?

Surprisingly, Snotlout wasn’t the most persistent for change. He sported a handsome scar on his back where he had used his whole body as a shield for Hiccup and Astrid. He still joked around and was an utter goofball but he seemed to read Hiccup a little better and would forcefully ushered the other riders, young and old, away when Hiccup looked on the verge of panic.

“We miss you,” Astrid told Hiccup one day. She sat on the edge of cliff overlooking Raven’s Point a comfortable distance from Hiccup so that he didn’t feel crowded, a habit just about every rider had begun doing. 

“I’m sorry,” was Hiccup’s only response. The only one he seemed to ever give as if somehow this was all his fault.

She sighed and kicked her legs back and forth in thought. “Maybe Fishlegs is right. You know he’d give complete control of his spa for as long as you want it.”

He nodded but said nothing. 

“Do you want to watch today’s Dragon Race? We can watch from Gothi’s when you go for you daily meds.”

“No,” he declined as he did every day.

She sighed again. “I’m…we’re all returning to Dragon’s Edge tomorrow. I really wish you were coming with us.”

He hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

They sat together in silence for another hour before Astrid had to leave or miss the race all together. She reached out to touch his shoulder but stopped when he flinched and shifted away from her as if expecting to he hit or some other awful thing that she didn’t want to think too hard on. “We’re here for you, Hiccup. I’m here. You can talk to me whenever you’re ready.”

His head bobbed up and down but he said nothing, his gaze at the water below.

There was nothing more she could do. He had pulled away from everyone and locked himself in a little shell. There were few he let near him. Toothless of course was always by his side and the loving rubs and head bunts were meant with rare broken smiles. His father could touch him but only when he was awake and approached from the front. No one could approach from behind without the young man panicking and Valhalla forbid if someone dared touch him. 

The only one that didn’t scare him was Gobber. The blacksmith posed no threat, his voice was always soft and he never asked Hiccup if he was okay. He knew his former apprentice wasn’t okay and wouldn’t be for a very long time. As soon as Hiccup was back on his feet he had set the boy back to work in the forge, keeping him in the back were prying eyes would not disturb him and he could pound out all his frustrations on some of the finest metal Gobber could offer him. He watched over the youth, made sure he didn’t do anything foolish to purposely hurt himself and brought him his meals. It took a lot coaxing to get Hiccup to eat proper meals but Gobber had the patience of a saint, it was why Stoick had entrusted him with his son’s wellbeing when they were at war with the dragons. He reported to Stoick any improvements he saw in Hiccup, if he had smiled or refused to eat. He watched over the youth with great care and worry. When the seven month came and Hiccup was no longer flinching when Gobber talked to him or touched his shoulder he came up with a daring plan to help Hiccup heal.

Rape was a serious crime, it scars may fade on the body but it would always remained in the mind and sometimes it took someone you completely trusted in to show that sex was not always a painful thing. Gobber loved Hiccup as he would his own child and he couldn’t bear to watch him suffer and continue blaming himself for the actions of a madman but he wasn’t fool enough to think he could heal all Hiccup troubles on his own. He consulted Stoick, reminding him of an incident that happened to him many years ago when he was younger than Hiccup and how their former chief had helped him and kept him from doing something drastic in the aftermath. It was a plan Stoick did not even want to consider for his son but knew that danger if nothing was done.

“He’ll be in complete control and you’ll be there to protect him,” Gobber assured, not wanting to proceed without all parties in agreement. They both feared Hiccup’s mental state might deteriorate further if it did not work.

At the end of the next day when the forge was just about to close for the day, Stoick met up with his son and Gobber. Toothless was curled up in his usual spot by the hearth enjoying the heat and the rhythm sound of Hiccup’s hammer against iron.

“Alrighty, all hammers down, lad,” Gobber said, plucking the tool in mid swing and putting it away in one swift movement.

The youth blinked owlishly as he looked up from his latest project to the glaring light produced by the fire in the hearth. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust. “Oh, hey…I must have lost track of time.”

“No worries, laddy. You can beat on that slap all you like tomorrow, right now your Dad and I need to speak with you,” Gobber said gently, steering Hiccup away from the table and to the little sitting area in the center of the forge. 

“What did I do?” he asked, automatically thinking he had done something and needing to apologize. “I didn’t mean to let the fire die down.”

The fire was burning brightly, not forgotten because it was Grump’s job to take care of it not Hiccup’s, not since he was kid charge with stoking it every so often. “You did nothing, Hiccup. Just take a deep breath and try to relax. Here, sit down.”

Confused the boy did as he was told and looked to his father questioningly. “Then why am I in trouble?”

“You’re not,” his father assured before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hiccup…I…we…Gobber wants to help you.” He stumbled through his words not sure how to put Gobber’s plan into words for his son. Hiccup was already fidgety and looked ready to bolt.

Thankfully Gobber took control. “We haven’t really sat down and talked about what Dagur did to you and I don’t mean the beatings.”

Hiccup hung his head, his chin right down to his chest. “You know what happened,” he said refusing to meet either of their gazes.

“Yes and it was a horrible thing. It was sick, cruel and the most horrific thing a man can do to another man against their will.”

“But men don’t get raped,” Hiccup objected. “Women do.”

“You know that’s not true. Rape is rape regardless if it happens to a man or woman. If you didn’t want it then he should never have done it,” Gobber continued.

Hiccup shrugged his slim shoulders, looking small and fragile. He still was eating right unless someone was there to make sure he ate and had lost considerable weight due to it.

“Hiccup, do you like men…sexually?” Stoick asked a little too bluntly and Gobber elbowed him.

“No…maybe,” the boy answered softly.

“Do you know the difference between wanted sex and forced sex?” Gobber continued, moving his seat a little closer so that Hiccup was focused on only him and not looking to his father for answers.

Hiccup glanced up. “With a woman?”

“No, a man. The difference between having someone you care for and respect as opposed to someone you hate.”

“Oh…” he whispered looking down again. “No.”

“Do you want to?”

His head jerked up and he inhaled deeply. “What?”

Gobber sighed and took a deep breath. “When I was a boy I was raped by my uncle. It was a horrible experience and traumatised me for a very long time. There are days when it still haunts me. I was so scared of people…men that I couldn’t function. I was disgraced, humiliated and honor stolen from me but our chief, your grandfather approached my parents with a proposal never heard of before, to teach me the difference between good sex and bad sex, wanted sex and unwanted sex. I already liked men but I was terrified that I was a freak, that no one would ever want me. No woman, no man, no one. I was scared, Hiccup. I thought my life was over and I’m not saying what he did was right…what I’m proposing is right but maybe it can help.” He let his breath out slowly and prepared for the worse.

“You want to…with me?” Hiccup said to clarify. His eyes were round as saucers and he looked more frightened then Gobber had ever seen him.

“You can say no,” Gobber said quickly, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. “I’m not pushing this on you, lad. You’re in complete control. You call all the shots. Your Dad will be here the entire time and so will Toothless. You’ll be completely safe.”

“I…” Hiccup’s mouth hung open. He shook his head and stood, a fragment of his old self returning. “This is insane,” he announced, his voice no longer a whisper yet still not his usual octave. “You’re suggesting we…you and me… You’re like a second Dad to me. You’ve cared for me my entire life. You made my leather diapers for Thor’s sake.” With every word his voice grew stronger as he passed the room. It was the most he said at once since waking from his coma.

“That’s why he’s the best choice,” he father said gently. “Because he loves you enough to do this for you, if you want it.”

Hiccup ran his hands through his hair and pulled at it. “This is crazy! I… Why? Why now? Why not when I first awoke and was so scared of everything?”

“Because that would have only down more damage,” Gobber answered. “Look, lad. There’s no pressure. You don’t need to do anything. It’s just an offer.”

The young man began hyperventilating as he pulled at his hair and stared at the hearth. Toothless stirred, sensing his rider’s growing anxiety.

“This was a bad idea,” Stoick said as he quickly got to his feet. He took three long strides and placed his large hands on Hiccup’s bony shoulders. “Hiccup, deep breaths. It’s alright. It was a bad idea. Just forget about it. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

It took time but Hiccup’s breathing slowly returned to normal, the odd hiccup escaping him as he tried to calm down. “Everything’s not fine,” he breathed, his chest tight and vision slightly blurred. “I’m not fine. I’m never going to be fine.” He wiped at rogue tears and looked to Gobber. “I’m in charge? You’ll stop if I say so?”

Gobber gave a nod. “Yes.”

“And if I don’t want you touching certain…parts of me, you won’t?”

“Of course not. I’ll do only what you want me to, lad, and nothing more.”

Hiccup sniffled then nodded. “Alright…I’ll do it…I’ll try.”

He was terrified and they knew it. The forge was completely shut down, the shutters closed and locked by Stoick to ensure no interruptions. Hiccup watched all the preparations as if trapped in a bubble and questioning his decision. He had never ever considered Gobber as a sexual partner. He never imagined having sex with any man. His heart had always and will always be with Astrid. He absently ran his fingers over Toothless’s wing, his best friend’s closeness the only thing keeping him from bolting out of the forge and never showing his face again.

When the forge was completely locked down Gobber led him to a work bench. “Alright…now it’s up to you, do you want us to be completely naked or just trousers off?”

Hiccup took a deep breath. “Trousers,” he said softly, not wanting to display his slave mark.

Gobber nodded. “I’ll let you remove your own trousers, alright? That way if you change your mind you can pull them up fast enough.”

The corner of the youth’s mouth curled up in a half smile. It lasted maybe a heartbeat before disappearing as he unlaced his breaches. Gobber left him to fetch a jar of lube he kept on a high shelf for his special visitors. He placed it on the table next to Hiccup and waited until the boy’s trousers were on the floor before continuing.

“Do you want to keep the prosthetic on?” he asked, keeping his gaze on Hiccup’s face and not down on his limp manhood. He wanted Hiccup to stay calm and trust him. He would not do anything to make the boy uncomfortable.

Hiccup inhaled deeply. “On,” he answered needing the security of both legs.

“Okay…now for the big one. Do you want to lie on the table or be bent over it?”

The boy froze, his breath hitching as memories of his rape hit him. Dagur had taken him from behind the first rape and many times afterward. Savage had made sure he was facing him while choking him and pounding into his core. But there really was no third option, at least not a position that Gobber could easily handle given his one fake leg and hand. He trusted Gobber, he really did but he just didn’t know what to do. “Forward…I want to see you.”

“Alright.” The blacksmith went to help him up on the table but Hiccup stopped him and hoped up on his own. “Now, give me your ground rules. What am allowed to do and not allowed?”

There was a lump in Hiccup’s throat that he had trouble swallowing. He looked to his father for guidance but Stoick only nodded with a look that clearly said it was okay and not to be afraid to tell Gobber what he wanted. “No touching my dick,” Hiccup started nervously. “I don’t want to be forced to cum.”

Gobber nodded in agreement.

“And…and I don’t want you cumming in me. I don’t want to feel that ever again.”

Gobber hummed softly. “That might be hard but I’ll be my best.”

“Or on me…I don’t want it on me.”

“Okay.”

“No kissing or making out just do it and get it down with and…”

Gobber hushed him. “I get the idea. Now lay back. I will have to prep you so that means stretching you.”

“With your fingers not your mouth,” Hiccup quickly added. This was business, a way to help him not personal. He took a few calming breaths before lying down. He looked to his father once more, needing to know he was there for him despite how embarrassing this felt. His gaze met Toothless’s and he finally relaxed. His dragon and his Dad would never let anything bad happen to him. They would always be there to watch over him. He lay back and focused on the gentle touches knowing that Gobber would never hurt him.

Gobber’s callused fingers caressed Hiccup left hip, stroking it slowly and reassuringly. He talked the entire time, letting Hiccup know it was him standing between his legs and that he was safe and would stop the instant he was asked. As promised, he avoided the youth’s genitals and focused on his far too skinny legs, cursing softly to himself at how much weight the boy had lost and trying to figure a way to help him get healthy again. The whole time Hiccup trembled, his body not totally under his control.

“It’s okay, Hiccup. I’m going to stretch now. I’m going to use lots of lube so it doesn’t hurt. If it does or feels in any way uncomfortable don’t be afraid to tell me,” Gobber told him as he pop the lid off the jar. He dipped his fingers in and took a liberal amount intent on making sure Hiccup was good and loose before entering him.

Lube was smeared over the puckered hole and slowly massaged in while Hiccup threw an arm over his face to muffle his whimpers. Gobber took his time and waited until the boy relaxed. “I’m going to work the first finger in. Take a deep breath and let it out when I say to,” he instructed. He pressed the tip to the opening. “Now.” He slipped his pointer in while Hiccup exhaled and of course the moment Hiccup felt it enter him he inhaled quickly, his muscles clamping one on that one digit. Gobber assured him that was alright and natural and was to be fully expected. He kept his voice gentle and reassuring like he did when he taught the boy the ways of the blacksmith except this time it was Hiccup’s body that was being molded and Gobber the tool they would use.

With each digit entered into Hiccup the youth would tighten painfully. Gobber stopped when he had the second finger in two knuckles deep. Hiccup had begun breathing rapidly against and was shaking so bad Gobber feared he might break all over again.

“Do you want me to stop?” Gobber asked as Hiccup pressed the palms of his hands tightly against his eyes. He began pulling his fingers out.

“No…” Hiccup wheezed, his chest tight. “No…I’m okay…I’m okay?”

“Are you sure?” Stoick asked worriedly, as he hovered next to Toothless. He did not like the look of pain on his son’s pale face.

Hiccup nodded. “Yeah…keep going. I’ll be okay.” It was a lie but right at that moment Hiccup needed to believe it.

“Third and last finger,” Gobber told him.

Hiccup grunted, his eyes screwing shut. He did not like the feel of fingers inside him but at least Gobber was gentle about it and the lube made his finger slid in and out without scratching his insides. After a while Hiccup was able to relax into it, not enjoy it but not let it frighten him so much. It last a few long minutes by which time his insides no longer tightened with every movement. That all changed the moment they were removed. He knew what was coming next and that scared him to no end and he was a struggle not to panic.

Gobber only undid the flap to his trousers and opened his skivvies to free his throbbing cock. He couldn’t help but get a little aroused having his fingers up such a wonderfully tight ass as Hiccup’s. It wasn’t the boy that aroused him. No, Hiccup was family and being aroused by a boy so much like a son was not appropriate. But when Gobber topped a partner he liked a tight ass hugging his length. Nonetheless he smeared lube along his entire length, more than he normally would but as much as he enjoyed friction he did not want to hurt Hiccup any more than he already was, mentally or physically.

“I’m going in now,” he warned and waited for Hiccup’s permission. When the boy nodded he slowly guided his slick cock into that pulsing hole. Oh, such sweet heat! The boy’s inners were burning hot. Gobber bit his lip and reminded himself he was doing this to help Hiccup and not get his own jollies by fucking the youth. He kept his movements slow and precise, going all the way in before stopping once more when those rippling walls clench down. “Are you alright, lad? Do you want me to stop?”

Hiccup didn’t answer. His eyes were screwed shut and he was panting, his breaths coming out in gasps as if he was about to have another panic attack, something that had been decreasing in frequency since he went back to work in the forge.

“Gobber, pull out. He can’t do this,” Stoick said, panicking on his son’s behalf.

The older man nodded in agreement. This was wrong. Hiccup wasn’t like him. This wasn’t the way to handle things. But long legs suddenly tightened around him, surprisingly strong for one so weak.

“No…” Hiccup breathed, uncovering his eyes. He panted softly, catching his breath as he tried to reconcile what he was feeling inside him now compared to how it felt with Dagur and Savage. “I just need a minute.”

“Does it hurt?” Gobber questioned, worry growing at the tears running along the corner of Hiccup’s eyes.

For a moment Hiccup was quiet. “A little,” he admitted. “Different I guess.”

“Are you sure you want me to continue?”

A small nod of consent that showed the trust he still held in Gobber despite the position they were in.

Gobber smiled adoringly at him, admiring the boy’s strength and moved slowly in him, brushing his prostrate gently and slowly, very slowly, coaxing Hiccup into arousal. He didn’t touch the boy’s manhood but encouraged him to touch himself, to let himself enjoy. This was sex. This was lovemaking. This was what it meant to be cherished. Nothing was forced. Hiccup only ran his fingers over his length, touching himself as he would while masturbating. When he came it wasn’t an overpowering orgasm that made his back arch and caused him to scream to the heavens but instead a full body shudder and a few gasps as his seed spilled on his belly in a few small squirts. 

Gobber kept his word and pulled out before he came and finished off facing the hearth to save on later clean up. Once he was done he did up his breeches and went to check on his boy alongside Stoick.

“How do you feel?” Stoick asked seeing as the boy hadn’t moved from his place on the table. He carefully touched Hiccup’s arm, fearful that they may have done more damage than help. “Hiccup?”

“Hmm?” the boy answered, staring blankly at the timber ceiling. He blinked and glanced at the two men leaning over him.

“Are you alright, son?” his father asked.

Hiccup blinked a few more times. “Yeah…I think so.”

“Are you sure?” Gobber double checked, feeling slightly guilty for what he had done and even more so from getting off on it if even a little.

Hiccup looked thoughtful, as if he really had to consider Gobber’s words. “Yeah…it felt…different. I don’t know. I didn’t like it but…” He seemed to struggle with his words. “…not really but it didn’t hurt and it did feel kind of good.” He lay there for a few more minutes, mentally debating the difference between what happened to him as Dagur’s slave compared to what Gobber had just down and he had to admit there was a big difference. Yes, he had been scared when Gobber proposed such a thing and yes, he had nearly grabbed Toothless and ran away but he was happy he didn’t. He understood what Gobber had done was to help him and while it might not be the method he would have preferred he was sort of happy he agreed to it.

Nothing changed between them. Gobber was still his mentor and friend and secondary father. He still joked around and tame tall tales that were mostly untrue. He’d gently elbow Hiccup or thwack him over the head when he was doing something wrong but he never made a move on him, never brought up that night. It was like it never happened, just a fond memory of trying to help a dear friend heal a bit, to teach him that regardless of his sexuality he didn’t need to fear having sex as long as he found the right partner. It still took time for Hiccup to adjust to normal life again. He could never forget what happened to him but slowly he was able to open himself up again.

Astrid was the first to notice the change and was the first to be able to touch Hiccup without him shying away or panicking. She coaxed him into spending time at the Dragon Academy, first to watch the younger riders and then to teach. Being around the younger kids brought him the rest of the way out of his shell and within a year he was smiling and laughing again. Best of hall he wasn’t afraid to hold Astrid’s hand or call her m’lady as he used to. They officially began dating before their twentieth birthday. As for intimacy he was still very self-conscious and ashamed of the slave mark, something he would have for the rest of his life. It would take much more time before he came to terms with it and overcame that.

It was also Astrid who finally got him to hang out with their friends again. It was slow at first, a few minutes here and there, until Hiccup felt comfortable to join in discussion he once led. 

Healing is a long process and it took years before he overcame his fears. Long years where nightmares sometimes return and certain sights and smells or even words would trigger horrific flashbacks. Long stressful years before he came to terms with everything that happened and realised that it was indeed not his fault, that he had not asked for these horrible things to happen to him and that he had no control whatsoever over the situation. Once he accepted that he finally began to heal and regain his confidence. Once that happened he was Hiccup again.

Fin

Dedicated to the men and women who have been abused, tortured and/or raped and found a way to heal and carry on and especially to my mother whose unconventional method in which she found healing inspired this last chapter and brought life to my siblings, myself and the numerous grandchildren she proudly watches over.


End file.
